


Plotbunny

by MittenWraith



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, April Fools' Day, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bunnies, Case Fic, Crack Treated Seriously, Cuddling Castiel/Dean Winchester, Don't worry she's fine, Easter Eggs, Flashbacks, Fluff and Humor, Human Castiel, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Sam Winchester and Dogs, Sam learns the truth about the easter bunny, Sharing a Bed, but the fic itself isn't a joke just fyi, in every sense of that phrase, in the distant past, jackalopes, vague description of attempted rape of an oc as part of the investigation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 06:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14074623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MittenWraith/pseuds/MittenWraith
Summary: Sam finds a case in a town that harbors long-repressed childhood trauma for both him and Dean. Once upon a time, it played host to Sam's discovery that the Easter bunny was a fraud perpetuated by his brother. But while Sam was busy resenting Dean for how that truth came to light, he missed the bigger picture of what Dean had been up to for the month John had left them behind, and the boy he'd spent most of his time with. Now, with a potential supernatural killer on the loose, Dean has to dredge up a part of his past he'd thought he'd safely buried so deep it would never see the light of day. Cas helps.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lizbobjones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizbobjones/gifts), [BlueStar86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueStar86/gifts).



> This fic has an origin story. Actually it has multiple origin stories. So many, in fact, I'm having trouble remembering where all the bits and pieces of it came from before I assembled them. Much like how a jackalope was created, I'd imagine... which is fortuitous, because there's jackalopes in this fic. I suppose I'll list some stuff, and let y'all imagine how it all came together. Because I'm beyond flummoxed. :P
> 
> [Lizbob](https://elizabethrobertajones.tumblr.com) needed a proper Easter bunny fic. We lamented that someone needed to do good, sensible crack, and not like... weird dog episodes (though there is a weird dog in this fic). This is not a proper Easter bunny fic, but I still think it counts for effort. Especially since Easter this year falls on April Fool's Day. This seemed like a confluence of events that I absolutely could not let pass me by.
> 
> The second major inspiration was [Saz's](https://bluestar86.tumblr.com) post on [how Dean could come out as bi](http://bluestar86.tumblr.com/post/149950106678/how-dean-should-come-out-on-the-show) through a flashback to his 16-year-old self. And considering Sam's age when he found out about the Easter bunny, this seemed like a wildly appropriate series of events to combine into one fic.

“So get this,” Sam said, stopping Dean in his tracks as he walked down the hall past Sam’s open door.

Dean closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. He’d been on his way to check on Cas, since the former angel hadn’t quite adapted to life in an underground bunker yet. Cas routinely neglected to set his alarm clock and had been having trouble settling into a normal human sleep schedule. Whatever Sam wanted him to get, Dean just hoped it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes. For some reason, Cas seemed to rely on Dean making sure he woke up at a reasonable hour every day, and Dean hated to fail him in even that small task.

Dean backtracked the two steps that put him squarely in Sam’s doorway, folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow waiting for Sam to continue. Sam glanced up from his computer to be sure he actually had Dean’s attention barring any sort of verbal confirmation of the fact from Dean, rolled his eyes at Dean’s stoic demand and pressed on.

“You remember that spring break we spent in Wyoming, when Dad told us we were hunting the Easter bunny?”

“You mean that time Dad dropped us off in Jackalope Central for a couple weeks so I’d have to deal with your meltdown over learning the Easter bunny was a fraud all by myself? Yeah, good times.”

Dean smacked the palm of his hand against Sam’s door frame and was already several paces down the hall when Sam called out to him again.

“Dean, wait.”

He heard the bed springs shift as Sam stood up, and before he could get any farther away from what would inevitably become several conversations he was in no mood to have, like  _ ever _ , Sam was already standing behind him in the hall. Dean sighed, his shoulders drooping in defeat, and turned to face the music. Sam looked appropriately contrite.

“Yeah, I was kinda… unreasonably pissed at you for that. It wasn’t your fault. Dad should’ve never thrown you under the bus like that.”

“Yeah, well, it was my fault you even believed in the Easter Bunny to start with. I’m the idiot who used to hide eggs and candy for you around whatever shitty motel room we were stuck in every year. That wasn’t on Dad.”

Sam’s look softened, and for a second Dean was worried Sam was actually gonna try and hug him. It wasn’t a life or death situation-- the kind of thing that usually justified hugging in Dean’s book-- and the unexpected burst of unwanted nostalgia for one of the worst months of his young life already had him on edge. He didn’t have the energy to deal with whatever weird mood Sam was in on top of that.

“Dean, every year, no matter how bad off shit got, you made sure to at least get me some of those nasty marshmallow chicks and a cheap chocolate bunny. I didn’t give a damn if it came from some magical rabbit.”

“You sure as fuck gave a damn when I told you I stole the cheap chocolate bunny for you.”

“I was eleven, Dean.”

“And a half.”

Sam snorted and shook his head. “Whatever, the point is I think there might actually be a case there now.”

Dean glared suspiciously at Sam for a few seconds. “Not another jackalope sighting, is it?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s not a bunch of pranksters with an Easter bunny fetish this time.” Sam gave his brother a pointed look, knowing full well who had been responsible for that particular prank.

Dean kept glaring and then sighed in defeat. “Fine.” He held up a hand to stop Sam from launching into the full case briefing. “I’m just gonna go make sure Cas is conscious, and then you can make your case while I make breakfast.”

Sam deflated a bit, but nodded and backed off. “Sure. I’ll go get a pot of coffee started. Meet you in the kitchen in a few.”

Dean reached Cas’s closed door and paused for a second, his ear pressed to the door, listening. As expected, he didn’t hear anything, so he rapped his knuckles lightly against the wood several times.  He called out Cas’s name quietly, and then a bit louder when he didn’t get an immediate answer. This had been their routine every morning since Cas had let himself become human again. Dean had tried to show him how to use the alarm built into his phone, but between road trips and hunting, their schedule had been too unpredictable to develop a regular sleep pattern. He’d had enough trouble even getting to sleep that it seemed cruel to force Cas into a rigid daily routine that was bound to be upset the first time they were called out on a new hunt. So Dean had taken to waking Cas up himself. It wasn’t like it was a burden, and after everything Cas had done for him, it was really the least Dean could do for him.

They’d been home for three days straight now. Dean had been half expecting Cas to ask him to just let him sleep until he woke up naturally since they didn’t have anything pressing on their schedule, but Cas had still seemed pleased to see him first thing every morning. No matter how exhausted he seemed to be, or how little he seemed to have slept, Cas never grumbled about Dean knocking on his door. It was gradually becoming one of the high points of Dean’s day, to hear Cas sleepily call out, “Hello, Dean. You may come in,” only to open the door and see Cas pushing himself groggily to the edge of the bed and sitting up with a smile on his face that Dean knew was just for him. Cas  _ hated _ waking up, but he smiled every morning anyway.

It warmed Dean right down to his toes. And he had absolutely no idea what to do with it. So when Cas called out his usual greeting, Dean opened the door and dutifully smiled back.

“Good morning, sunshine. I was gonna make French toast, and Sam thinks he’s got a case for us to check out.”

Cas stood up, yawning his way into a full body stretch that tugged up the hem of the ragged old t-shirt that had once belonged to Dean before Cas had claimed it for himself. Dean only allowed himself a snap glance down at the strip of skin and hipbone exposed above the waistband of his baggy sweatpants, returning his face to a semblance of polite amusement and his gaze to Cas’s face in time to watch his eyes and nose un-scrunch as he blinked his way to wakefulness.

“As long as there’s coffee,” Cas said, picking up his robe and shrugging it over his shoulders.

“Of course there’s gonna be coffee,” Dean assured him, patting Cas on the shoulder as he shuffled into his slippers.

Dean stood in the doorway watching Cas walk down the hall, unsure if he was relieved or disappointed that Cas didn’t turn back to make sure Dean was following. Cas rounded the corner, tying the sash of his robe and yawning again, and Dean slumped back against the wall. Why the hell did Sam have to find a case in Douglas? It wasn’t just the memory of the mess John had dumped on his shoulders all those years ago. Dean had made a big enough mess of his own during their brief time in that small town.

Watching Cas walk away without so much as a glance back at him brought another, far more personally upsetting set of memories bubbling to the surface. Dean allowed himself ten whole seconds to shove it all down enough to get on with his morning. He wasn’t sixteen anymore, and John wasn’t around to lecture him on how he should live his life. Dean took a long, deep breath and slowly blew it out while he rebuilt his facade out of sarcasm and irritation, letting his overwrought grievances with a fictional bunny rabbit square his shoulders and steel his spine.

Dean strolled into the kitchen to find Sam settled in at the table with a cup of coffee and his laptop, looking both studiously patient and yet still eager to lay out his case. Cas stood leaning against the counter, contentedly nursing a cup of coffee and once again smiling at Dean.

“French toast?” Cas asked when Dean detoured to the coffee pot.

“That’s the plan,” Dean confirmed, setting his mug on the edge of the counter and going to the fridge to pull out eggs, milk, and butter.

Sam tapped away at his computer with what Dean recognized as growing impatience, the clicking of the keys growing sharper and less methodically rhythmic. Cas continued sipping his coffee and watching Dean cook. Dean got a pan of bacon started and then cracked eggs and splashed a bit of vanilla and milk into a bowl while Cas queried him about everything he was doing. Sam’s keyboard clacks grew more insistent.

Dean let him suffer just a bit longer, thoroughly answering all of Cas’s questions, letting Cas try his hand at soaking the bread in the egg batter and flipping it over on the griddle. Considering the stress and feelings of impending doom Sam’s casual mention of that month had left hanging over him, Dean didn’t feel so much as an iota of remorse. Hell, he fucking deserved a few self-indulgently cheerful minutes after being dragged down bad memory lane, and if teaching Cas to make French toast could provide them, Dean wasn’t about to complain. It seemed remarkably fitting, all things considered. Poetic, even.

Dean plated up their breakfast and then swung by the coffee pot to refill his mug on his way to the table, sitting down just in time for Cas to let out a pleased sound around his first bite.

“Good, huh?” Dean asked, casting a nervous smile at Cas. Nervous because he wanted Cas to enjoy food now that he could properly taste it again, but also nervous because of what the noise he’d made was doing to Dean’s insides. He shoved a piece of bacon in his mouth and tried to think unsexy thoughts.

“Mmm, yes. It’s amazing how a few simple ingredients can come together in such a pleasing way. And that plain bread can be transformed into something so sweet and savory all at once.”

“Yeah, that’s cooking for you,” Sam replied during a break for air from scarfing down his food.

Dean scowled at his brother, but Sam was already busy devouring the rest of his toast. As soon as he was finished, Sam took a deep breath and without further warning launched into the case, beginning with a bit of background for Cas’s sake.

“So there’s this town in Wyoming that’s claim to fame is that some dude there taxidermied up the first jackalope.”

At Cas’s confused expression, Dean explained, “He stuck a couple of antelope antlers on a rabbit.”

“I know what a jackalope is, Dean. I can’t imagine why anyone would deliberately construct such a creature.”

Dean shrugged. “To make money off of gullible tourists, mostly.”

“Anyway,” Sam continued, doing his best to ignore Dean. “We mostly ignore the whole area, because almost all the weird news around there turns out to be jackalope hoaxers drumming up business. Dad sent us there for a month once while he worked a demon possession case up in Montana. He figured we’d be safe enough chasing after a bunch of kids decorating jackalope statues to look like Easter bunnies and leaving trails of plastic eggs around town.”

Dean studiously kept his head down, intently focused on savoring his breakfast. Sam gave him a few seconds to add his own commentary, but when none was forthcoming, he pressed on.

“So when a new jackalope story hits the wire, I usually read it over for a laugh, you know? But I don’t think this is a hoax this time. A man is dead, and I think something supernatural killed him.”

“What’s the cause of death?” Dean asked, now that Sam had finally gotten to the point. Thinking about an actual case that had nothing to do with jackalopes would hopefully be enough to keep him from dwelling on a past he couldn’t change anyway.

“The official report says animal attack,” Sam said, turning his laptop so Dean and Cas could see the crime scene photos, “but considering he was killed in a parking lot behind a crowded bar in the middle of town, and nobody saw or heard anything…” Sam trailed off and waved a hand at the computer for Dean and Cas to draw their own conclusions.

“Anything missing?” Dean finally asked after he finished chewing his last bite of breakfast.

“That’s the weird thing,” Sam said, shaking his head. “I was gonna guess werewolf. He’s pretty torn up, but his heart and all the rest of his organs are there. Mostly.”

“Mostly?” Cas asked, looking up from the grizzly photos.

“They found a trail of… bloody bits leading away from the crime scene, and tried to piece it all back together. They’re pretty sure they have all the missing tissue, but it’s hard to tell.”

Dean made a face at that, but Sam went on.

“There was no evidence left behind either. No animal hair other than a few dog hairs, which he could’ve picked up anywhere.”

“Dogs? So you thinking skinwalker?”

Sam shrugged, but then nodded.

“Maybe we’ll finally get to take down Lucky,” Dean said, standing up and taking his plate to the sink.

“Lucky?” Cas asked.

“Skinwalker we met back when Crowley had us hunting for alphas,” Sam clarified, which was enough to shut down any further questions on the subject. It had been a bad year for all of them. Luckily Dean had already moved on.

“What about the vic? He piss off any dog owners lately?”

“Not that I know of, yet,” Sam replied. “Alan Bachman, age 24, worked for a local oil company driving a delivery truck. He lived alone, and doesn’t have any other family in town.”

“Guess he didn’t have a dog.”

“Nope. No pets allowed in his building, either. But he could’ve picked up dog hair on his clothes at work. He spent most of the day driving around making fuel oil deliveries.”

“We should definitely talk to all the dog owners on his route, then,” Cas suggested, and Dean beamed at him.

“Yes, we should. The cops probably wouldn’t even bother.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Sam said. “The detective interviewed the bar patrons and Alan’s coworkers, and is trying to track down anyone he was friends with outside of work but hasn’t had much luck yet. We should probably talk to him first. Save ourselves some time running down dead end leads.” Sam scrolled to the top of the report to make note of his name. “Detective Jake Romberg.”

Dean had been contentedly scrubbing eggy goo out of the mixing bowl, happily focused on Alan Bachman’s kind of depressing life. At the mention of Jake Romberg, Dean’s blood ran cold.

The whole Easter bunny debacle had made that month a living nightmare for Dean. What had started as a friendship that had given him his only reprieve from the stress of dealing with Sam’s emotional trauma had turned into just one more cold memory he’d had to shove down and bury deep. Jake had been just as much a lesson for him in what it meant to grow up as a hunter as learning the truth about the Easter bunny had been for Sam. Maybe even more so.

It wouldn’t do him any good to dwell on it when he was supposed to be getting cleaned up and ready to go. Something in Douglas had killed a man, and if that was the case then Jake, as well as everyone else in town, needed him to nut up and deal with it. Begging off and just telling Sam and Cas to take care of it wasn’t even an option, even if he didn’t have a fucking clue how to handle seeing Jake again.

Dean cleared his throat and rearranged his face into something he hoped approached nonchalance as he wiped down the counter and hung the dishtowel up to dry. He turned around and attempted a casual lean against the edge of the sink, but his shoulders still felt tight. “We can hit the road whenever you’re ready. If we leave soon, we can make it to Douglas by dinner time. Maybe check out the scene at the bar where the attack took place, in case it was just a wrong place wrong time deal for puppy chow.”

Sam took in Dean’s stiff posture and frowned, but nodded slowly. “Sure, Dean. I can be ready to go in twenty.”

Dean cast a quick glance at Cas, who studied him over the edge of his coffee mug, eyebrows pinched together probably wishing he still had his mojo vision to give Dean a quick scan. Not that Dean suspected that Cas had regularly poked around in his head when he still had that power. Hell, it probably would’ve saved them both a shit ton of heartache if he had. Instead, Dean just sighed, gave Cas what he hoped was a reassuring nod, and headed off to his room to pack.


	2. Chapter 2

It had taken more than twenty minutes for the three of them to get out on the road. Cas had taken a bit longer than Sam to pack, since he’d had to get showered and dressed as well. Dean had grown impatient enough to decide he needed to reorganize and restock the trunk, and was still running around the bunker picking up extra silver bullets and refilling the salt and kerosene after Sam had loaded his gear and climbed into the car. Cas turned up in the garage ready to go five minutes before Dean returned and ended up waiting with Sam while Dean fussed over double-checking their entire weapons cache again.

“It’s fine, Dean,” Sam said from the passenger seat. “We got more than enough supplies to take down every creepy crawly between here and Wyoming, but we actually have to leave the bunker to do it.”

Dean slammed the trunk and finally noticed Castiel standing at the side of the car, still watching him carefully, like he knew there was something more going on with Dean. Cas wasn’t judging him, or upset with him. He was just being Cas, waiting patiently, reminding Dean that he was there, ready for when Dean needed him. It was that more than anything that grounded Dean in that moment. He took a deep breath and let Cas’s calm, steady presence wash over him as he gave Cas a weak but genuine smile. Dean might’ve been driving into a personal nightmare, but at least he’d have Cas by his side. And the two of them had faced far worse nightmares than Dean’s teenage crushes and come out the other side together.

Despite the late start, they still pulled into Douglas right around dinner time. The first order of business was finding a place to stay near the crime scene, but not too close to the police station, and definitely not the crappy dump John had abandoned them in for nearly a month. Dean drove past a couple of perfectly acceptable motels-- by Winchester standards, anyway-- and finally settled on a place three blocks from where Alan Bachman had been killed. It didn’t hurt, in Dean’s opinion, that the motel’s mascot was an overeager and overly-friendly neon jackalope, waving at the world from atop a twenty foot pole.

“Really, Dean?” Sam rolled his eyes and jumped out of the car as soon as Dean had parked, storming off to the motel office to check them in.

Dean got out of the car and stretched, slowly making his way to the trunk to fetch his bag. Cas silently joined him and picked up Sam’s bag as well, and the two of them stood on the sidewalk companionably, enjoying the late spring evening air.

“You know, Easter falls on April Fool’s Day this year,” Cas said out of nowhere.

Dean grunted and raised an eyebrow at Cas. Cas’s face hinted at the very beginnings of a smile, one corner of his mouth turned ever so slightly upward. On anyone else it wouldn’t mean a thing, but to Dean, Cas may as well have been winking exaggeratedly and elbowing him in the side. Cas’s eyes twinkled in the light of the neon jackalope, and Dean waited, knowing that Cas had something more to say.

He never got the chance, as Sam returned with a room key a few seconds later. The spell may have been broken, but just from their short, almost nonexistent exchange, Dean’s mood had lightened by about a hundred pounds.

“Looks like your choice of the kitschiest motel in town paid off,” Sam said, opening the door to their room.

“I don’t know,” Dean replied, scanning the woodland themed room with paintings of a forest filled with jackalopes hung over the beds, the sofa, and the small desk. “Snow White would feel right at home.”

“I think they’re cute,” Cas said, examining one of the paintings more closely, eyes roving the image playing spot-the-jackalope like it was a game of Where’s Waldo.

“They have a gift shop,” Sam added, with an innocent expression. “You should see the stuff they’ve got for sale.”

“It’s creepy,” Dean said, dropping his bag on the dresser beside a small stuffed jackalope with a lamp sprouting out the top of his head between his antlers. "Who the fuck would want this in their house?"

It was technically Cas’s turn to sleep on the sofa, since they’d been taking it in rotation when they’ve had to sleep in motels, but Dean still felt presumptuous claiming one of the beds, especially after side-eyeing the lumpy sofa upholstered with a subtle rabbit motif. No adult human should be forced to sleep on that, especially not Cas who was still getting used to being an adult human again. They could work out all the sleeping arrangements later. Right now, they had priorities.

“So, food?” Dean asked, making his way toward the door.

Dean set out in the direction of the bar with Cas on his heels. Sam caught up to them a minute later, just as Dean spotted a no-name burger joint and crossed the street.

“They better have something other than burgers,” Sam muttered.

“It’s called Burgers N Things, Sam. If you don’t want a burger, you can enjoy N Things instead.”

“I’d like a burger,” Cas said.

“Of course you would,” Dean replied.

Dean and Cas enjoyed their burgers, while Sam was mildly impressed with his grilled chicken sandwich. Dinner provided just long enough of a break to decompress from the long drive and give them a second wind. With full stomachs and clearer minds, they set out to walk the two blocks to the bar. They passed a tiny coffee shop along the way, and Dean and Cas conferred and agreed that it would be their first stop the next morning, while Sam walked behind them rolling his eyes at the both of them.

“The Wellspring, right?” Dean said, pointing out the sign across the road.

Sam nodded, and they crossed the street again. “Kinda looks like a dump.”

The building was an older prefab steel structure painted pale yellow, but the parking lot was more than half full at seven o’clock on a Thursday night. Maybe it was a bit of a dive, but they seemed to be doing steady business.

With nothing more than a glance between the three of them, they continued down the road, past the bar and its crowded parking lot.  A car slowed and turned into the lot as they reached the corner of the next block. They walked the entire length of the parking lot, right to the back of the building where the parking lot lights struggled to pierce the darkness.

Toward the end of the building, a couple of benches flanked an emergency exit door that had been repurposed as a smoking area and quiet spot for employees to get off their feet for a few minutes. Dean approached the door and peeked through the tiny window into a narrow wood-paneled hallway with doors leading to the kitchen and restrooms. He heard music playing inside, but it wasn’t loud enough to make out what it was beyond the soft pulse of the rhythm, aside from slow and moody.

“So this is probably where he came out,” Dean said, joining Sam and Cas near the back corner of the building.

They peeked around the corner to see a large green trash bin and a similar blue recycling bin formed an unnatural blockade across the alleyway behind the building. On the other side of the great wall of trash, a light glowed brightly above the kitchen entrance, but almost none of its light stretched the ten feet or so beyond the two dumpsters to the corner where Dean, Sam, and Cas now stood.

“I think this is where he was killed,” Sam said in a quiet voice, shining a flashlight over the traces of blood stains on the pavement that hadn’t yet washed away.

“Cozy spot,” Dean said, squinting around in the dark. “What the hell was he even doing back here? The smoker’s benches are twenty feet that way. And twenty feet farther away from the garbage smell.”

“Maybe he preferred garbage smell to cigarette smoke?” Sam suggested without looking up from the ground.

Dean made a face at Sam’s back and then turned to Cas. “We should go in, get a drink, chat up the locals. See if any of them know why he was out here.”

“There’s no dogs around here,” Sam said all of a sudden.

“Yeah, we haven’t seen a dog all day. Do we need to make a trip to the dog park again so you can get your fix?”

Sam stood up and rolled his eyes. “No, Dean. That’s the point. We haven’t seen a single dog since we got to town. No one walking a dog, no strays running around. It’s just… weird, is all.”

“You got dog radar now or something?” Dean asked.

Cas replied, “I don’t believe there’s such a thing.”

“Last time we worked a skinwalker case, the whole town was practically crawling with stray dogs, remember?”

“Not particularly,” Dean replied. “Then again, even soulless you was more of a dog person than I’ll ever be.”

“For what it’s worth, I haven’t noticed any dogs, either. That could very well be a clue,” Cas added.

“We can look into the local dog population in daylight. Sam can even visit the pound and pat all the sad dogs,” Dean said, turning to walk back to the front of the bar. “Right now, let’s get a drink and make nice with the regulars.”

Dean held the front door and smiled politely for a couple leaving before the three of them headed inside. Unlike the rather utilitarian, bordering on industrial look of the building’s exterior, the bar was decorated in what looked like real wood paneling with heavy plank floors. A dozen rustic tables practically glowed under the warm lighting, most of them occupied by patrons. Dean noted rather glumly that the food looked better than the typical dive bar fare he’d been expecting and he almost regretted having just eaten. Fish and chips, shepherd’s pie, roasting meat… it all looked good and smelled even better. He glanced over at Cas, who looked nearly as disappointed as Dean felt.

“We can stop here for lunch tomorrow,” Dean assured him.

Sam overheard and replied, “Sounds good to me.”

With that they made their way to the long bar and found three seats together. The bartender was preoccupied filling an order for one of the waitresses, but she nodded in their direction to let them know she’d be with them next. Dean watched her work while they settled onto their stools. Once upon a time, he’d have taken one look at her and done whatever it took to take her home after her shift. He noticed her wedding ring and easily adapted his strategy from flirting into something more professional. With Cas sitting close enough they were bumping elbows, for once it felt more like a relief than a disappointment that the hot bartender was already taken. He turned and smiled at Cas, who responded with a slightly bemused smile of his own.

“Hey, guys,” the bartender said, catching them off guard and grinning at them when Dean and Cas startled. “What can I get for you?”

“I’ll have a beer,” Sam said, pointing at one of the taps touting a local brew, which the bartender began pouring with a nod.

“And the two of you?” she asked as soon as she’d slid Sam’s glass onto a coaster.

Dean watched Sam take a sip of his beer, the look on his face shifting from considering into pleasantly satisfied. He turned to Cas and shrugged. “We’ll have the same, I guess. Might as well sample the local brew while we’re in town.”

“Good choice,” the woman replied with a smile as she turned to pour two more pints. “So are you guys here in town long?”

“We’ve only been here long enough to check into the motel down the street and grab a bite to eat so far,” Sam said.

“And we’re regretting not having stopped here first,” Cas said.

The woman smiled kindly at him. “Yeah, our chef knows his pub fare. He’s only been here a few months, but he used to run the family’s pub in Wales before he passed it along to his son. Thought he was gonna retire and travel around the world, but he missed feeding people. We were lucky enough he decided to settle back down here.”

“It all smells delicious,” Cas added.

“Well, if you’ve already eaten, we’ve got a few desserts that might still interest you. Today it’s cherry chocolate torte, banana cream pie, or a salted caramel cookie sundae. If any of you have a sweet tooth,” she added with a wry smile.

“Ah, nothing for me, thanks,” Sam said.

“Well, there’s always room for pie,” Dean countered.

“You want a slice?” she asked, looking between Dean and Cas as if it was a joint decision.

Cas replied before Dean could. “That sounds lovely. Dean would appreciate it.”

“Will do. Just give me a minute and I’ll bring it out.” She ran her eyes up and down the bar to make sure none of the other customers needed anything, and then hurried back to the kitchen.

She was gone less than a minute, but by the time she returned with the slice of pie and two forks, a patron at the end of the bar was more than ready for a refill. The man got her attention with a shout of, “Hey, Annie.” She set down Dean’s pie in front of him and gave him a knowing look before setting off to tend to her other customer.

Dean stared at the plate for a few seconds before making a radical and spontaneous decision. He picked up both forks and handed one to Cas. Cas just sat there staring at it for a moment, glancing from the pie to the fork to Dean’s face, which betrayed a sort of nervous hopefulness half buried beneath one raised eyebrow and a challenging smirk.

“You ordered it,” Dean said. “You should at least get to taste it.”

Cas smiled and took the fork from Dean’s hand. Their fingers brushed together, but Dean did nothing to move his hand away. He held Cas’s gaze for another few seconds.

“I knew you would want it,” Cas replied, leaning in closer to whisper the next bit. “And it gives us an additional reason to linger. Annie seems more than willing to converse with us, and she might’ve known Alan Bachman.”

Dean’s smile broadened and he nudged the plate over so it was closer to Cas. “That is some good thinking there, Cas. The kind of thinking that’s best rewarded with pie.”

They sat quietly, all but ignoring Sam, who’d taken an interest in the conversation the couple on his other side were having. That left Cas and Dean to focus on how delicious the pie was, alternating bites until the entire slice was gone. Their forks clinked as they dropped them both to the empty plate, which seemed to summon Annie.

“So I take it you boys enjoyed that?” she said, picking up the plate and wiping a few crumbs off the bar.

“It was very good,” Cas said. “Our compliments to the baker.”

“Ah, that would be my husband, Lev. He’ll be glad to hear it.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Cas continued, running his hand along the edge of the bar, carved with a repeating pattern of rabbits alternately running, sitting up, and lying down amid various flowers and vines. “Is there some significance to the rabbit motif? Our motel room is similarly decorated. It seems a strange coincidence.”

Annie’s face lit up in a surprised grin. “Oh, you must just be passing through then, and you didn’t come for the jackalopes. They’re sort of the official town mascot. You’ll have to make a detour past city hall and see the giant jackalope statue before you leave town.”

“Have you ever seen a jackalope in the wild, though?” Dean asked skeptically.

Annie just laughed and shook her head. “Plenty of cottontails, but none sporting a majestic set of antlers, no. You’ll find enough of ‘em at any gift shop in town, though.” She leaned in an said in a low, confidential voice, “They say the antlers only turn visible after death, so I suppose you never know if you’ve seen one hopping around out there.”

Dean raised his glass to that and smiled. “Well, that sounds like the exact sort of thing the chamber of commerce should print on the tourist pamphlets.”

“Hmm, maybe that’s where I read about it,” Annie replied, nodding to Dean’s glass. “You need a refill on that?”

He looked over at Cas, still sipping slowly at his drink. “Sure, that sounds good.”

Annie swapped Dean’s empty glass out for a full one, and Cas took the chance to ask another question before she was pulled away by another customer. “So, do you have any more advice for accidental tourists with a day to spend in town?”

“Aside from playing find the jackalope?” Annie replied, busying herself with wiping down the spotless bar again. “You’re a few months early for the state fair and rodeo, and there’s not really much else unless you’re Oregon Trail buffs, or interested in seeing full-size antelopes along with all the cottontails around town. We’re a quiet little town most of the year.”

“The kind of place where it’s quiet enough to invent imaginary creatures to entertain yourselves?” Dean suggested, taking another sip of his beer. Annie laughed and shook her head, but Dean went on. “You do make a good beer, though.”

“Got plenty of time to work on it,” she agreed.

With that she was called away to tend to another customer. Sam finally finished his beer and leaned over toward Dean.

“I think I might have a new angle to work on, but I need to look a few things up.”

Dean shot his brother an incredulous look. “What the hell? You’ve been sitting right there this entire time. Where’d you pick up a lead?”

“Dean, we’ve been sitting here for like half an hour. It was either eavesdrop or watch you and Cas make sweet sweet love to a slice of banana cream pie. There’s only so much innuendo I can take on a full stomach.”

Dean just glared at him for a second and then sighed. “Fine. Whatever. But there was no  _ innuendo _ . It was just pie.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself,” Sam muttered, pulling out his wallet and leaving a few bills on the bar. He stood up and waved at Annie, and then headed toward the door.

Dean turned to see if Cas was ready to leave, only to find him having a quiet and serious conversation with the older man sitting on the next stool over.  He cleared his throat to get Cas’s attention, and Cas turned an apologetic smile on him. The man beside him glanced up at Dean, before leaning in close to Cas and speaking in a voice almost lower than Dean could hear over the ambient noise of the bar.

“Boy deserved it, from what I hear. He was up to no good, you mark my words. Sabine took the day off to recover, but I know that boy had designs on her even though she’d been turning him down for more than a year. Good for whoever-- or whatever-- put an end to that.”

“Small favors,” Cas replied. “It was nice meeting you. I hope the rest of your evening is uneventful.”

The man laughed, raising his glass as Cas and Dean stood up and headed toward the door. Once they were outside, they spotted Sam, already at least halfway back to the motel. Dean took hold of Cas’s elbow and looked around to make sure nobody was nearby.

“What was that about? With the old guy?”

“He was telling me what he knew about Alan Bachman. From what he said, he’d been propositioning one of the waitresses at the Wellspring for more than a year. She’d rejected all of his advances, but he’d only become more persistent. It seems that last night when she went outside for a break, he followed her out.”

“Huh,” Dean replied. “Wonder if she told the cops about that?”

Cas shrugged. “I suppose she wouldn’t have if she’d been even partly responsible for his death.”

“If J-” Dean started before correcting himself. “If the detective actually interviewed the regulars, you’d think at least one of them would’ve let that detail slip.”

“You know how some people feel about talking to the police. Especially in tight-knit groups, or where they feel sympathetic toward the person in question. Apparently a lot of the regulars feel protective of Sabine, and not particularly positively inclined toward Alan.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, beginning to feel uneasy about confronting Jake for an entirely new set of reasons. “Or else the detective is in on it, and conveniently left it out of his report.”

Cas nodded along. “That is a fair point. Local law enforcement might either be aware of the monsters and agreed to help cover their crimes, or might be harboring monsters of their own.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, sighing and rubbing a hand down his face before setting off walking again. “Yeah, we learned that lesson the hard way. Too many times.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dean and Cas arrived back at the motel to find Sam sitting at the room’s small desk, typing away on his laptop. Dean peeked over his shoulder on his way to the bathroom and saw what Sam was looking into. He’d brought up public records about the Wellspring, in addition to the owners and several of their employees.

“What’s this hot lead you got there, Archer?”

Sam kept typing, opening several more search tabs before turning to Dean. “Just something strange the woman next to me said about the victim, and the owner of the bar. It seemed worth looking into.”

“What, they got a secret army of skinwakers holed up in the beer cooler?”

“I don’t know if this has anything to do with skinwalkers. I’m still gonna talk to the county animal control officer tomorrow anyway,” Sam said. “But I think the beer could be connected, too.”

Dean and Cas exchanged a confused look, before Cas gave up first and asked, “I thought Alan Bachman drove an oil delivery truck. What does his death have to do with beer?”

“Nothing at all,” Sam replied.

“Do we gotta drag it out of you, Sammy?” Dean asked.

Sam sighed and sat back in his chair. “The couple next to me was talking about Sabine, the waitress who’d last seen Bachman alive. They were worried about her. Specifically about whether she’d be able to keep working at the Wellspring, or if she might end up transferring to the brewery for a while, or even going back to Wales for a few years.”

Cas hesitated for a moment, but then agreed. “That does seem like an oddly personal thing for a couple of bar patrons to speculate on.”

“Your grumpy old man seemed to know a lot about her personal life, too,” Dean said to Cas. “Then again, hang out at the same bar every night, you see a lotta shit and get to know everyone. Those sorts of people become like weird, alcoholic extended family after a while.”

“Yeah, but I think it’s more than that,” Sam said. “I think a lot of them are actually family. The Pertinger family, specifically. Leveret and Annie Pertinger own the Wellspring, and Lev’s sister Bunny owns the Snowdonia Brewery outside of town. I’ve been digging up ownership and employee records for both businesses, and almost every employee is a member of the Pertinger extended family. Including Sabine Pertinger.”

“And?” Dean asked. “All that means is they got more reason to protect her if she was involved.”

Sam gave Dean a withering look. “And if she  _ is _ involved, if she’s a skinwalker or whatever killed Bachman, either the rest of the family knows what she is and what she did, or else we could be looking at an entire family of monsters.”

Dean sat there and let it sink in for a moment. “So all this time we been ignoring anything weird in this town, there could’ve been dozens of real monsters hiding in plain sight, just going about their business? Damn. Can you imagine how pissed Dad would be if he knew?” Dean grinned delightedly at the thought as Sam shook his head.

“Dean, focus. I think we need to tread carefully here. The Pertinger family’s lived here as far as the records go back. If they’re really something supernatural and they’ve been living here for generations, there’s no telling who might be part of the family, or at least who might be keeping secrets for them. Even the local cops.”

“Sam’s right, Dean,” Cas added. “You said it yourself, too. We’ll need to be very careful how we approach the detective in charge of the case.”

Dean rubbed his eyes and sighed. There was no way he could avoid talking about his personal history with the detective any longer, not if he might be involved with whatever was really going on. “Yeah, I know. But, uh… that might be, um. Complicated.”

“How so?” Sam asked, as if he’d already prepared himself to hear terrible news.

Dean glanced over at Cas, now sitting beside him on the foot of one of the beds, for reassurance or comfort or just to see his face one last time before Dean unloaded the whole awful story. Or at least as much of it as he needed to in order to keep his own family safe. “Um, you remember the last time we were here?” he started with, as if Sam wouldn’t.

Sam took the initiative, based on Dean’s hesitation, to lay out everything he remembered. Dean listened, nodding along but also cringing at everything Sam hadn’t apparently noticed and calculating just how much he’d need to add to flesh out the tale. As Sam recounted the events, Dean’s math just got worse and worse.

“Yeah, Dad didn’t even bother to enroll us in school because it was the week before spring break and he thought he’d be back before school even let out. He ended up being gone almost a month, during which time you set up a fake hunt for the Easter bunny to keep me from complaining about being bored.”

“You spent a hell of a lot of time in the library, Sam. You needed to get out and get some fresh air.”

“I know Dad ordered you to do it, Dean. You don’t have to keep sticking up for him. I heard him yelling at you when he came back, saying he hoped you learned your lesson about playing fairy. I get it, okay? You just tried to do something nice for me, and he didn’t want me confusing the real monsters with the imaginary ones.”

Dean sat there, quietly considering his options while staring down at his clasped hands in his lap. After a few moments, he let out a pained laugh and shook his head.

“You got about ten percent of that right, and I’m guessing you don’t remember Jake at all.”

“Jake?” Sam asked, his eyebrows scrunching down together as he tried to follow Dean’s seemingly random conversational shift. “You mean Jake Romberg? The detective?”

Dean just nodded without looking up at Sam, and Cas sat quietly beside him, listening intently and not willing to interrupt.

“I wasn’t sure if it was here or not, but I remember you having a friend named Jake around that time, now that you mention it.”

“Yeah, that was him. And it wasn’t Dad’s idea to set up that fake hunt. It didn’t have shit to do with the Easter bunny, either.”

Sam shook his head in disbelief. “But you said it was about the Easter bunny, Dean. The eggs! What about all the damn eggs?”

Dean took a deep breath and started talking. “There really was a guy vandalizing all the jackalope stuff around town. I met Jake outside the library the first day we got here. The vandal had given the library’s mascot a biologically improbable upgrade, and Jake had been given the job of scrubbing it off.”

Sam made a disgusted face at Dean’s turn of phrase, which prompted Cas to shoot Dean a confused look.

“Genitals,” Sam replied. “Someone turned the cartoon jackalope into a porn star.”

Cas’s eyes widened in understanding, and then narrowed down as the rest of it sunk in.

Dean just shrugged at him and continued. “Jake’s dad was a cop, too, and Jake had a part time job taking care of stuff like that around town. He was getting sick of cleaning and repainting pornographic jackalopes and hoped his dad caught whoever kept fucking with them. So I offered to help. ‘S not like I had anything else to do anyway.

“So being asshole teenagers ourselves, we thought it would be hilarious to bait the vandal. Jake’s mom had this crate of plastic Easter eggs and shit they kept around for the annual town Easter egg hunt, and we built a huge nest of plastic eggs out by one of the signs. Figured that would piss off the vandal, and we could get a look at him when he showed up to trash it.”

Sam cut him off. “But the eggs were filled with candy, Dean. At least the ones I found were.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, Jake’s mom had already gotten started filling ‘em up for Easter. I may have shoved a few of those into my pockets by accident.”

Sam glared at him. “So you lied to me. You told me you thought the Easter bunny had gone rogue. You had me freaked out for a week that we were gonna have to gank the Easter bunny, Dean.”

“Hey, at least it got you outta the library for a few hours a day.”

“I was running around town trying to prove the Easter bunny wasn’t some psycho monster on the loose, so you wouldn’t catch him first and murder him!”

“If it’s any consolation, as soon as I figured out what was bugging you, I told you the truth.”

“Yeah, thanks for that. Why’d you even lie to me in the first place?”

“About the Easter bunny?” Dean asked, and Sam just glared at him. “Fine. I couldn’t risk you telling Dad I’d been hanging around with Jake, hanging around with a cop’s son.”

Sam’s face softened a bit. “Dean, if you’d told me the truth--”

“Yeah, yeah, you would’ve kept your mouth shut. Until I did something to piss you off, or you were just pissed off about anything and it just slipped out.”

“Really, Dean? You think weeks or months later that Dad would even care you were hanging around with some cop’s kid in a town we’d probably never visit again?”

“He fucking cared plenty when he found out,” Dean growled out between his teeth.

Sam was taken aback and stared open-mouthed at Dean while Dean glared back at him. That left it up to Cas to finally step in. He laid a hand on Dean’s knee and Dean deflated almost instantly.

In a calm and quiet voice, almost like he already knew how Dean would respond, Cas asked, “Tell us what happened, Dean. It’s okay.”

“It’s really not okay, Cas. It wasn’t okay when I was sixteen, and it hasn’t been okay since then.”

Cas sat patiently, his hand never moving from Dean’s knee, and waited until Dean finally looked at him. “You’re right. It’s not okay that you were made to feel this way about yourself.”

Dean looked him in the eye and took comfort in the fact that if anyone knew, and if anyone would understand, it would be Cas. He may have been answering Sam’s question, but it was a lot easier to do it while he was looking at Cas, completely calm, unconditional love and support practically radiating off the guy.

“Jake and I weren’t just hanging around, Sam. We were… dating. The night Dad came back to pick us up, I’d met Jake at the park across from the motel to tell him we were leaving. He kissed me, and I walked away without looking back because Dad was standing in the parking lot waiting for me. He’d seen the whole thing. That’s what you heard him yelling about. Not the fucking Easter bunny.  _ Me _ . What I’d done.”

Cas smiled softly at him and gave his knee a reassuring squeeze, like he was relieved that Dean had finally been able to admit to all of it. Dean didn’t look away, didn’t glance over at Sam. He knew Sam wouldn’t care, that it wouldn’t change the way Sam thought of him, even if it had changed the way he’d thought of himself for years afterward.

Eventually Sam cleared his throat. “So that’s not a surprise, Dad being a homophobic asshole.”

Dean shrugged and finally looked over at Sam. “Yeah, but the worst of it was he didn’t give a shit what I did, as long as I never did it around  _ you _ . Why do you think he left me at Sonny’s and sent you off to Bobby’s for two months?”

“You told me that was about losing the food money gambling and getting caught stealing?”

“Yeah, well, it was more like we ran out of food money, and I got caught stealing. He figured it was as good an excuse as he was gonna get to keep me away from you until I got it outta my system or whatever. Couldn’t risk exposing you to whatever was wrong with me.”

“So, Robin?” Sam asked after a few uncomfortable moments.

Dean shrugged. “Dad found out I was dating a girl and figured I was cured, I guess. He was  _ pissed  _ when he found me at CBGB a week later about to get lured into an orgy, but I was pissed at him, too.”

Sam’s mouth opened and closed a couple times. Dean laughed and shook his head.

“We called a truce over it after that,” Dean said. “I stuck to girls when you were around. After you left for Stanford and I was out hunting on my own, it didn’t really matter anymore.”

Sam let all of that sink in for a few minutes and then finally added a thought of his own. “Just how long had Dad been afraid of me? How long did he know about what Azazel did to me, worrying about whether or not I was gonna turn into a demon or some shit?”

Dean shrugged again. “He was always worried about you. Over-protective. I hated him for it when we were kids because he never gave a shit about me like that. He blamed me for every little slip up, but you? I resented the hell outta that. But yeah, he probably knew a lot longer than he ever let on. It would explain a hell of a lot.”

“And he just let you feel like shit about being a kid,” Sam said in disbelief.

Dean stuck both his hands out to his sides, palm up. “Welcome to my life.” He lowered his hands, and when one of them somehow landed atop Cas’s hand on his knee, he didn’t bother moving it. After a moment, he looked down and let his thumb rub gentle circles on the back of Cas’s hand.

“Are you sure you want to talk to Jake again?” Sam asked after a few minutes. “Because I never would’ve pushed this hunt on you if I’d known any of that.”

Dean held up his free hand to stop him. “I wasn’t about to leave some monster running loose in Jake’s backyard. It’s the least I owe him.”

“I’ll go with you,” Cas said.

“I was kinda counting on it,” Dean replied as relief washed through him and he smiled up at Cas.

“So, you really think Jake might be involved in some sort of cover up?” Sam asked, finally bringing everything back around to the case at hand.

“Shit, I really hope not,” Dean replied.

“That leaves the Pertinger family,” Cas said, and then turned to Sam. “If you don’t learn anything useful from the animal control officer, I think we’ll need to investigate them more thoroughly.”

“Yeah, tomorrow’s looking like a busy day,” he replied, shutting his laptop. “I think I’m gonna shower and turn in. Anyone need the bathroom first?”

“I’m just gonna brush my teeth now, shower in the morning,” Dean said, giving Cas’s hand a final squeeze before regretfully standing up and letting it go. “Just give me five minutes and the bathroom’s all yours.”

“I’ll do the same as Dean,” Cas added as Dean dug his toiletry kit and a pair of sweats out of his bag.

Ten minutes later, Cas came out of the bathroom as Sam went in. Dean had turned down the covers on the bed closest to the door, but he was still standing by the side of it, hesitant to climb in. Cas hadn’t flinched while he’d recounted every last awful memory of this town that he’d done his best to bury for more than twenty years. It seemed like an extra dick move to make the guy sleep on the lumpy-ass bunny couch.

Sam was in the bathroom, so at least he wouldn’t have to make the offer with an audience. Not like Sam wouldn’t notice the second he came out, but at least by then Dean hoped he’d be able to fake sleep well enough to avoid having to see his brother’s reaction. It was bad enough he’d essentially officially come out to him already. There were only so many Hallmark moments he could stand in the span of an hour.

Cas stood by the dresser, carefully folding his clothes and tucking them into his duffel. Before he could even consider grabbing an extra blanket and pillow and turning the sofa into a temporary bed, Dean cleared his throat and made his offer.

“Cas, you shouldn’t have to sleep on the couch.”

“I don’t mind,” Cas replied, sorting through the contents of his bag so he wouldn’t have to look up at Dean. “It’s my turn, so it’s only fair.”

“No, I mean… I mean, if you don’t mind, I don’t mind either, it’s a big enough bed. We don’t have to make it weird, I just figured, if you wanted to, I’m good with that.”

Cas turned to him with a curious look. “Does this have anything to do with what you told Sam?”

Dean shrugged one shoulder and felt his face getting warm, and dammit he was not gonna be embarrassed by Cas’s implication that he’d already known everything anyway, because of course he had. Which meant Cas was leaving everything up to him. Maybe he had been for a long time. Cas was giving him the perfect opening and he was fucking tired of shutting it down to protect anyone else. He took a deep breath and let it go.

“Maybe a little bit, but that’s a shitty couch to sleep on, and the bed is big enough for both of us, and I’m tired.” It was a start, and it got Cas at least moving slowly toward the bed. “I’m tired of keeping up the act I should’ve dropped a decade ago, I’m tired of pushing my own shit down for Sam’s sake, and I’m tired of pushing you away. Just… come to bed, and we can work out the rest tomorrow. Right now I’m just--”

“Tired?” Cas said, stepping into Dean’s personal space with a small hopeful smile on his face.

Dean smiled back and reached one tentative hand out to Cas’s shoulder. Cas’s smile widened, and he slid his arms around Dean and drew him into hug. They stood there for a minute as the tension drained out of Dean’s shoulders. When they finally pulled apart, Dean raised one hand to Cas’s cheek, searching his face for confirmation that this was really okay. Cas confirmed it by slowly pressing his lips to Dean’s. The kiss only lasted for a second before Cas pulled back again, smiling up at Dean as he blinked in surprise. Dean gave it three whole blinks before diving back in for a proper kiss.

Years. He’d kept this all buried for years, when he could’ve had this. He could’ve had Cas. But he wasn’t gonna let anything stop him again. The moment Dean made that resolution, the pipes rattled and the shower shut off. Sam would be out any minute, and even more than before, Dean didn’t want to have to deal with his brother’s commentary.

He broke the kiss, gently nudged Cas into bed and then climbed in after him. It took them a minute to get themselves comfortable, neither of them wanting to move too far from one another, but also not wanting to seem completely obvious to Sam. Eventually Dean just gave up that pretense and pulled Cas into an embrace, Cas’s head resting on his shoulder and their legs comfortably twined together. Dean sighed and kissed Cas’s forehead.

“Tomorrow we’re getting a separate room,” Dean muttered under his breath, and Cas laughed and hugged him tighter.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean woke up slowly, warm and comfortable and content because Cas was still wrapped around him. He hated to wake him up, but from the sound of the bathroom sink running, Sam was already up and getting ready to go out. If they were lucky, Sam wouldn’t give them too much shit; at least hopefully not until after they’d had some coffee.

Dean didn’t have a door to knock on for once, so he did one better. He kissed Cas’s forehead and watched him squirm in closer, hugging him tighter and burying his face against Dean’s neck. “Morning, sunshine,” Dean said, barely more than a sleepy mumble.

Cas blinked blearily up at him and smiled. “Hello, Dean. This is preferable to having to get up in order to see you.”

Dean smiled back. “Don’t tell me I’m gonna have to find a new way to get you outta bed in the morning now.”

“There’s always coffee,” Cas replied.

Dean laughed and pulled Cas in for a quick kiss. “Yeah, well we gotta get up and get dressed first.”

Cas groaned as he sat up. “I hate motels.”

“Yeah, places that force you to wear pants in public. Imagine that.”

Cas picked up his pillow and dropped it on Dean’s head. Dean laughed while they both climbed out of bed and shuffled around. When Cas yawned and stretched, Dean didn’t force himself to look away. He had permission to look now, but he wondered if Cas had been giving him permission to look all along. Cas caught him staring while Dean was still trying to work out just how much he’d missed out on because he’d refused to even let himself think it was a possibility.

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas said quietly, taking Dean’s hand and resting it against his hip, just above the edge of his waistband and beneath the hem of his shirt. “We got here eventually, and that’s all that matters now.”

Dean nodded absently, his fingers curling against Cas’s sleep warm skin. He was considering what he should do next when Sam called out from the bathroom.

“I can hear you, so I know you guys are up, and I’m happy for you both, but I’m opening this door and I really hope you’re both fully dressed.”

“Do pajamas count?” Cas replied without hesitating.

Sam opened the door and nodded, relieved. “Yes, good enough. I appreciate it.”

“If you’re done in the bathroom, I’m going to shower,” Cas said, grabbing a change of clothes and giving Dean a knowing nod.

Dean nodded back, torn between wanting to follow after Cas to avoid whatever teasing Sam was sure to dish out and feeling relieved that maybe Sam would get the worst of it out of his system without Cas having to suffer through it as well.

“Sure, it’s all yours,” Sam replied before Cas shut the door and started up the water.

Dean poked through his duffel, knowing they were gonna need their suits to visit the police station and debating over whether to even bother with the FBI pretense with Jake, all in an effort to avoid looking at Sam as he silently tied his tie and watched Dean fidget.

“So I get why you never said anything to me before now. Kinda.” Sam said after a few tense moments, his voice laced with a tightly controlled thread of hurt. “But you could’ve said something last night.”

Dean turned to Sam, his FBI badge in one hand and a look of confusion on his face. “I… did say something last night. I said a hell of a lot last night.”

Sam looked at him like he was stupid, and Dean wondered for a moment if it was true. “I meant about you and Cas.”

“What about me and Cas?” Dean asked, honestly having no idea what Sam was asking. “We figured you’d seen enough to figure out what was going on.”

“How long have you two been together? I mean, I get why you felt you needed to hide it--”

Dean cut Sam off with a laugh. “We’ve been  _ together _ since you were in the shower last night.”

Sam stood there staring, shaking his head ever so slightly. “You’ve… only since last night?”

“What can I say,” Dean said with a half shrug as he turned to gather the rest of his clothes. “Cas had been waiting for me to get my shit together for a long time. So I guess we owe you a fucking fruit basket or something for dragging us out on this case and forcing me to get over that shit.”

“Oh…” Sam said, the facts of his new reality beginning to gel. “I, uh. I guess I’m glad, but I’d settle for a decent breakfast.”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he was still in shock, but Sam was still taking it all better than he’d expected. “Yeah, give us like twenty minutes and I think we can make good on that.”

“Actually,” Sam said, pulling out his phone and checking the time. “The animal control officer is gonna be out of her office most of the day, but she agreed to talk to me over breakfast this morning. I’m meeting her at a diner about six blocks from here. I figured I’d just walk.”

“What’s your story?”

“Research on stray dog populations. Told her I was compiling data for a study on how small towns manage pet overpopulation issues for the University of Wyoming.”

Dean nodded, impressed. “Angling for a ride-along?” he asked, smirking at his brother. Hey, Sam may have taken pity on him, but he was under no obligation to return the favor.

Sam just shook his head and pulled his coat on before opening the door. He paused in the doorway and turned back to Dean. “Seriously, though. Congrats to you both. You deserve to be happy. But maybe get your own room tonight, because I deserve to be happy too.”

“Shut up,” Dean said, feeling his cheeks heat up against his will. “And that was already the plan.”

Sam nodded, relieved. “Yeah, and good luck with Jake. What are you gonna tell him?”

Dean shrugged. “Not sure yet, but probably some version of the truth.”

Sam cast him an encouraging little smile and then left. Alone for the first time since he’d unburdened himself, Dean took a huge breath and closed his eyes, letting the relief finally settle in. He’d been holding on to all that shit for far too long, and just twenty four hours earlier he’d been convinced he’d be holding on to it, cramming it down and trying to pretend it didn’t exist while it slowly ate away at him, for the rest of his life. One strange day later, the source of more than twenty years of self-denial had become the catalyst for everything he never dared to hope for.

“Two down, one to go,” he muttered under his breath. He still had to face Jake, but at least Cas would be by his side.

Cas came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing only a pair of boxers and his dress shirt, which he hadn’t bothered buttoning up yet. His hair was even messier than usual, roughly towel dried and left to stick up in all directions. Dean was at a loss for words, and his fingers itched to comb through the mess of Cas’s hair.

“I heard Sam leaving. Is everything okay?”

Dean snapped back to reality enough to reassure him. “Yeah, he’s got a hot date with a dog catcher.”

Cas breathed a sigh of relief and to Dean’s disappointment, began getting dressed. “I was worried he might’ve been upset about us.”

“No, no he’s thrilled, actually,” Dean told him. “I should’ve expected it.”

Cas hummed and sat down at the foot of the bed to pull on a pair of socks. He lifted one foot and Dean knew he had to leave the room as soon as possible or unforeseen delays in their schedule would become inevitable. He’d known Cas was fit, in an academic sort of way from when he’d caught the occasional glimpse of him. It was one thing to know it in the abstract, believing it was entirely off limits to think about Cas’s body in any more concrete terms, but now to be so casually and openly presented with the fact he was not only allowed but  _ encouraged  _ to look was beginning to interfere with Dean’s higher brain function.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go shower. I’ll be right out,” he said as he stumbled off to the bathroom.

He swore to himself that he’d keep it quick, or else embarrassing things would happen. Dean kept the water on the cool side so he wouldn’t be tempted to linger. It was only when he’d finished his perfunctory shampoo-soap-rinse and opened the curtain that he realized his dilemma. In his haste, he’d left his clothes out in the room. He dried himself off quickly, wrapped one of the slightly-too-small motel towels around his waist and wished he knew more baseball stats. He forced himself to think about the last ghoul hunt they’d been on. It was the least arousing thing he could think of at that moment. Bolstered, he opened the door.

He let the steam waft out, and then followed it hoping it would shield him for at least a few more seconds. Dean had no such luck, as Cas was already admiring him at least as openly as Dean had appreciated Cas not ten minutes earlier. And really, turnabout was fair play. Only now, Cas was fully dressed in his new suit pants and fidgeting with his tie. Dean was still as dumbstruck as he was by mostly-naked Cas. He really looked good in those pants, now that he finally had a suit that fit him well. Dean squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to look directly at Cas looking back at him with a naked hunger in his eyes.

“I’m gonna get dressed, or we’re not gonna leave this room,” he muttered as he turned away from Cas to pick up his clothes and started toward the bathroom.

“You don’t have to hide in the bathroom. I’ve waited years, Dean. I think I can control myself a little bit longer.”

Dean laughed and glanced at Cas over his shoulder. “Yeah, well maybe I can’t.”

Cas returned a challenging look, and Dean sighed.

“Or maybe I just don’t want to. But we still got a case to solve before whatever killed Alan Bachman decides to take a bite of someone else. Kind of a dick move to… okay bad choice of words. But you know what I mean.”

Cas nodded. “I know, Dean. But now that I am finally allowed to look at you, I’m finding it’s its own sort of pleasure.”

“What, you wanna watch me get dressed? That does it for you?”

Cas made a funny little groaning noise at the back of his throat. “I want to watch you, and know that you know I’m watching.”

Dean thought about that for a minute, and completely understood. He’d had a nearly identical thought about Cas. If watching him put on his suit was enough to turn Cas on, Dean could certainly give him a show. He set his clothes down on the dresser and dropped his towel. Across the room, Cas’s breath hitched, and Dean looked up to see him staring-- not at his body but at his face. Dean smiled when it hit him. It was all about consent, and to a former angel,  _ consent _ , at least as far as humans were concerned, was sort of hard-wired into the programming. Cas might be human too now, but Dean had just given him the angelic equivalent of The Big Yes.

Any sense of embarrassment at being stared at faded under the warmth of feeling so blatantly adored. Dean had to stomp down his reflexive need to deny it all a few times, but fighting off that instinct also helped keep him distracted enough to stop himself from charging across the room and flinging himself bodily at Cas. Small blessings. By the time he was fully clothed, sitting down to pull on his shoes, Cas finally walked over and sat down beside him.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said, a little hoarse.

Dean smiled at him and reached over to help Cas fix his tie. “I get it, Cas. But later, we’re gonna do this again, in reverse. And I’m gonna take my time.” He smoothed Cas’s tie down, running his hand the length of Cas’s chest and stomach, trying desperately not to mentally skip ahead to pulling that tie off. “But it’s gotta wait.”

Cas made a disappointed sound, but then reached up to cup Dean’s cheek. He leaned in for a kiss that Dean let go on longer than intended but still nowhere near long enough.

“I understand.”

Dean nodded and stood up to pull on his jacket. “It’s gonna be a long damn day.”

  


***

  


Sam walked up to the diner, noting the Animal Control SUV already parked out front. It wasn’t hard to spot the woman he was meeting, sitting at a booth by the front window in her uniform. She was younger than Sam had expected, in her late twenties at the oldest. It was a big job, being the only animal control officer for the entire county, and his respect for her only grew as he neared her table and noticed she was already absorbed in the day’s reports.

“Officer Emerson?” he asked, drawing her attention up, and up from her reports as she had to readjust her own expectations to meet Sam’s tentative smile.

“Hi. Sam, was it?” she asked, and waved him into the booth across from her as she cleared away her paperwork. “Call me Lindsey. Officer Emerson is just a sprained tongue waiting to happen.”

Sam laughed and set his notebook on the table as he said. “Lindsey, then. Thanks for meeting with me. I won’t take up too much of your time.”

She nodded and folded her hands on the table in front of her. “Well I just ordered breakfast, so you got until I’m done eating. I have a report that someone hit an antelope up off highway 59 overnight, and I need to check out the scene, make sure there’s not a carcass blocking the road.”

“Sounds like a nice way to start the morning,” Sam teased, and flagged down the waitress.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Lindsey replied. “I’ve had worse mornings. So, what can I do for you?”

A waitress brought Sam a cup of coffee and he ordered a stack of pancakes and a fruit cup, and then set in on his cover story.

“I’m researching the stray animal population across the state, particularly dogs, trying to determine the most effective management strategies, especially in rural areas. I’m looking for funding to start a low cost spay and neuter program statewide, but I need proof that other less costly programs aren’t already just as effective.”

She eyed him carefully for a moment. “So you’re looking to see if Converse County’s got a dog overpopulation problem?”

“To start with, yes,” Sam said. “And if you don’t, maybe you could tell me a bit about what you’ve done to keep it from becoming a problem?”

“Well, we don’t exactly have huge packs of wild dogs roaming the streets, but I suppose we have as many strays as any town this size. It’s mostly the Humane Society who handles lost and stray pets, and they do already offer a discount on sterilization. Most pet owners take them up on it when they adopt.”

“So you haven’t noticed an increase in the dog population lately?” Sam asked.

Lindsey frowned contemplatively and then shook her head. “If anything, I’d say it seems to have shrunk over the last few months. There’s been fewer call outs for dogs running loose lately, now that you mention it. But you should check with the Humane Society too, just to confirm it.” She reached into her portfolio and pulled out a business card, sliding it across the table to Sam. “They’re open in an hour if you want to give them a call.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that.”

Sam tucked the card into his pocket as their breakfast arrived.

“Come to think of it, there has been an uptick in reports on one dog in particular, it seems.”

“Don’t tell me,” Sam said. “Big, scary black dog?”

“Nah. Pure white. Couple people said it had red spots. Never seen a dog like that myself, but that don’t stop the calls.”

“Huh. Strange.” Sam was taken aback by that, but his mind was already turning through the possibilities.

They ate quickly but companionably, talking about dogs they’d both had as kids. Sam made it out that Bones had played a much larger role in his young life that the meager two weeks they’d shared an abandoned trailer outside of Flagstaff, but the lie felt good for once. He even mentioned Riot, the stray dog he’d hit and then adopted for a time, as the reason for his passion for protecting homeless pets, and didn’t feel the usual aching sense of loss over the dog that had once uprooted his entire life.

Dean was probably right. He really needed to find a dog park and just let himself pat a few dogs. After they finished eating, Sam claimed the check over Lindsey’s protests. She thanked him for breakfast, and he thanked her for the conversation. He waited until she was gone before walking back to the motel to change his clothes and settle in for a little more research.

  


***

  


Dean drove the mile or so to the sheriff’s office slowly. Cas remained perfectly calm beside him in the front seat, and Dean was even more grateful that they’d at least started to sort themselves out before he’d had to face Jake. The whole drive out from Kansas, he’d been dreading having to meet him alone; or worse, awkwardly trying to pretend he barely remembered Jake while Sam and Cas watched him squirm. This was definitely better than that.

As they waited for a group of kids to cross the street a few blocks from the station, Cas turned to him and started asking the practical questions.

“Are you going to tell Jake that we’re with the FBI?”

“I was kinda hoping we wouldn’t have to lie to him,” Dean replied, tensing up a little.

“So are you going to tell him we suspect a monster killed someone in his town?”

Dean rubbed one hand over his face and then continued driving. “I thought we’d start with small talk and work our way up to it.”

Cas nodded as if he understood, because he probably did. “You’re hoping to  _ feel him out _ ,” Cas replied knowingly, the phrase sounding stilted but oddly charming in Cas’s grumbling voice.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Dean confirmed and then cautiously proceeded through the intersection.

They were quiet until Dean had parked outside the sheriff’s office, when Cas turned to him and earnestly stated, “I’ll follow your lead, then.”

Dean tried his best to keep from smiling, and mostly failed. “Like in Dodge City?”

Cas shrugged. “I’ve been practicing since then.”

Dean smiled wider, but it was more out of fondness than humor.

“Also, I don’t have to maintain a bizarre and complicated cover story this time, nor pretend to be suffering from tuberculosis.”

Dean laughed. “The tuberculosis was more like deep character background. Still, you looked good in the hat.”

It was Cas’s turn to laugh. “You have an unhealthy enthusiasm for cowboys, Dean.”

That caught Dean off guard and he continued to stare at Cas before slowly shaking his head. “Not cowboys,” Dean started, and then corrected himself. “Well maybe a little bit. But back in Dodge City, I was just thrilled you were back. It was the first time I felt anything even close to enthusiasm for weeks.”

Cas’s brow pinched down into a frown and his head tilted ever so slightly. Dean knew he couldn’t get out of telling Cas just how bad things had been for him. He sighed and turned in his seat to face Cas.

“The more you know, and all that, right?” Dean cleared his throat. “When you were… gone… I lost it. Freaked Sam right the fuck out. He was force feeding me chili fries and trying to drag me to stip clubs. Jack was convinced I hated him, because I flat-out told him I’d kill him for what he did to you.”

Cas’s frown deepened into abject puzzlement. “For what he did to  _ me _ ?”

“I blamed him for getting you killed, for dragging you away from the bunker with some bullshit promise about paradise. He drove you away from home, from safety, from… from  _ me _ . And Sam couldn’t understand why I hated him so much, why I was so fucked up and angry and just… didn’t give a shit about anything anymore. A few days before you came back, it all just sorta… exploded out of me. I screamed it all into Sam’s face. Apparently Jack overheard it. Next day we had a case with a fucking shapeshifter grief counselor, of all the bullshit things. Day after we got back from that, Sam found the hunt we’d just finished when you called. It… didn’t go well.”

Dean looked down at his hand resting on his knee and took a few deep breaths while Cas waited patiently for him to go on. He finally looked back up at Cas’s face, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“It shoulda been a routine salt and burn, but it turned out it was some freaky ghost possession bullshit. Dude tortured a bunch of people to death, and their spirits were all trapped. Sam and I couldn’t find their bones to burn, and instead of just leaving and torching the whole place, I decided what the hell. I ain’t got nothing to live for anyway, so may as well go out doing something good for a whole bunch of people, right?”

Dean couldn’t decide if Cas was glaring daggers at him or just doing his best not to break down and interrupt. Either way, he needed to get the rest of this out, as ugly as it was.

“So I pulled a Doctor Robert. Got to talk to the ghost of the kid we failed to save, had a chat with a reaper, and then Billie showed up.”

“Billie?” Cas finally interrupted. “But… I killed her.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, new cosmic factoid. You didn’t so much kill her as give her a promotion. If you kill Death, the next reaper who gets killed takes his place. She’s capital D Death now. Go figure.”

“Wait, does that mean… could she be the one who brought me back?”

“I really doubt it. She still seemed kinda pissed about the whole killing her thing.”

“Ah,” Cas replied.

“Yeah, but I was ready to die, and I was just standing there waiting for her to hurl me into the Empty, but she sent me back. Told me I had work to do. Then a couple hours later, you called.”

“Wait, a couple of hours?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“I’d already been back several days. The Empty returned me to a field in the middle of nowhere. It took me that long to find a telephone.”

Dean’s brow furrowed as he thought back and tried to calculate the time frame. “So you think Jack really did ring the cosmic alarm clock for you?”

“It seems likely, yes.” Cas said, nodding slowly. “I don’t know how long I argued with the cosmic entity before he sent me back. Time works differently in the Empty. But it seems likely that your emotional outburst on my behalf may have been what triggered Jack’s power.”

Dean wasn’t sure whether to feel humiliated or grateful or just plain fucking relieved. He’d thrown a temper tantrum awful enough to rip a hole in the fabric of the universe. It didn’t seem like something to be particularly proud of, but if it was the reason Cas was now sitting beside him, it was hard to feel all that bad about the results.

“So all along, while I’d been wondering why I was brought back, assuming there must be some purpose for it,  _ this  _ was it,” Cas said, waving a hand between them. “I was resurrected for you.”

Dean blinked a few times and licked his suddenly dry lips. “I, uh… I guess you could put it that way.”

Cas smiled widely and sighed with what Dean couldn’t doubt was relief. “It’s a burden lifted to finally know. It was troubling, feeling like I must have some purpose or a mission I needed to fulfill, and having no idea what it was.” At Dean’s pained expression, Cas hurried on, resting a comforting hand on Dean’s knee. “I find this explanation infinitely more satisfying.”

Dean hesitated for only a second before taking Cas’s hand and swallowing hard. “Even if it’s just another theory we can’t prove?”

Cas nodded emphatically. “It’s the first theory that’s felt  _ right _ . That didn’t leave me full of doubt.”

“Then I guess that’s the story we’ll go with,” Dean said, feeling the weight of entire universes lift off his shoulders. “But, uh. Just between us, can we maybe not share it with Sam?”

Cas laughed. “Yes, Dean. I promise not to tell him that your grief brought me back to you. I imagine he’d never let us live it down.”

“Yeah, but as long as we believe it, that’s good enough for me,” Dean replied, squeezing Cas’s hand. “We should probably…” he pointed vaguely at the sheriff’s department with his free hand, and Cas nodded.

The building’s lobby wasn’t crowded, and Dean suddenly wondered whether he should’ve called ahead of time to make sure Jake would even be there before driving over. He walked up to the reception desk with Cas at his side and the officer on duty looked up from his computer.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, hi,” Dean said and then cleared his throat and glanced over at Cas, who was the picture of ease, and tried to channel Cas’s old stoic angel of the Lord persona. “I was wondering if Jake Romberg was here.”

“Is this regarding a case?” The man asked while picking up his phone.

“No, no. I’m an old friend of his, happened to be in town and thought I’d stop in and say hi, if he happened to be around.”

“Sure, he’s here. I’ll let him know he has a visitor… Mister…?”

“Winchester,” Dean said, not bothering to give his first name yet. He didn’t want to risk someone running his name through the system and figuring out that he was on the FBI’s most wanted list. And also technically dead. A last name was good enough for now.

“It’ll just be a minute,” the man said, placing the call.

Dean and Cas stepped away from the reception desk to wait, and despite his outward calm, Dean could tell something was still bothering Cas. He nudged him with his elbow to get his attention, and then silently inquired what was wrong with nothing more than a concerned look. Cas took a deep breath and shook his head.

“It’s a matter for later,” he said out loud. “Related to what we were discussing in the car.”

Dean grunted, his frown deepening. “You think of something else that might’ve brought you back?”

Cas frowned at that but then shook his head. “No, but something the cosmic entity said to me that I believe you should know.”

“What, was he thinking of following you through the wormhole and devouring the whole universe?”

“No, Dean, nothing like that. It’s just… with this new context, I think you might appreciate it.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually appreciated hearing anything from anyone who self-identified as a fucking  _ entity _ . “That might be a first, actually,” Dean said, just as he heard someone call his name. He turned around just in time to see Jake emerge from a hallway.

“Dean? Is that really you?” Jake said, crossing the reception area and extending a hand for Dean to shake.

“Hey, Jake,” Dean replied, grasping his hand as the both of them hesitated and then gave each other an awkward but manly half hug. “Long time no see, hey?”

“Yeah, man. How’ve you been?” Jake asked, stepping back and taking all of Dean in before glancing over at Cas. “And you are?” he asked, holding out his hand for Cas to shake.

Cas glanced over at Dean, who nodded and introduced him. “This is Cas.”

Jake shook his hand, waiting for some sort of clarification of their relationship, but before Dean could offer him one, Jake turned to the officer at the desk.

“Hey, Leo. I’m gonna go get a cup of coffee,” Jake said, pointing out the front door.

Leo gave him a distracted wave, and then Jake was headed toward the door. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve got about half an hour before I’m supposed to meet with the coroner, so I don’t have much time. I thought it would be easier to talk somewhere a little less hectic than the bullpen.”

“That’s fine with us. Lead the way,” Dean replied.

Outside, Jake set off down the sidewalk. There was a tense moment of silence before Dean blurted out, “Hey, man, I’m sorry for the way I left, but my dad--”

Jake stopped walking and turned to him with a sad smile. “Dean, it’s fine. You told me from the start that that’s exactly what would happen. I get it. I mean, I hated it at the time, but it’s not like you lied to me or anything.”

Dean nodded, accepting Jake’s feelings on the matter and moving on. Jake was both right and wrong. Dean had never lied about the fact he’d be leaving town as soon as John came back, but everything else… He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So you followed in the old man’s footsteps,” Dean said, waving a hand at Jake’s uniform.

“Yeah, the summer after you left I thought about doing something else. Practically  _ anything _ else. My dad was pissed, but he didn’t object when I went off to college. Got a degree in anthropology just to piss him off more. But after school I came back home and settled down. Couldn’t imagine doing anything else now.”

“That anthro degree help you catch killers?” Dean teased.

“You’d be surprised,” Jake replied. “So how about you? You follow your old man into the family business, too?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Dean replied. He’d never actually told Jake exactly what the family business was, but he’d sort of hinted that it was highly unconventional, borderline illegal, and definitely not the sort of thing he’d talk about with anyone even remotely related to law enforcement. Jake had accepted that at the time, and Dean was relieved he still hadn’t pushed for more details. “He passed away about twelve years ago now, but me and my brother, and Cas here, we’re still carrying on.”

“Is your brother in town too, or is he still too traumatized about the Easter bunny?”

Dean laughed easily at that. “Nah, he got over it. He’s back at the motel doing some research.”

“Aah, so he’s still a nerd, at least,” Jake replied, as they walked up to a small bakery and coffee shop. He turned to look at them as he opened the door to the shop. “So, what’s the story with the two of you?”

“It’s, uh…” Dean hesitated, looking over at Cas, who gave the tiniest of shrugs. “It’s a really long, weird story, and you probably wouldn’t believe a word of it.”

“Then I wish I had more time to hear it, considering some of the things I’ve heard in passing over the years. You might be surprised what I’d be willing to believe.” Jake shot Dean a little smirk and then walked up to the counter to place his order.

“I believe he’s more aware of what you do for a living than you gave him credit for, Dean,” Cas said in a low voice before following Jake to the counter.

“Well that’ll make things easier,” Dean muttered under his breath. “Probably.”

They ordered coffee and then headed outside. It was warm for late March, and sunny, so the three of them sat at a small table outdoors. Jake was the one who finally broke the awkward tension.

“I half expected you to turn back up every time we had a case that was a little outside the ordinary, shall we say. I was kind of surprised when you didn’t at least once or twice over the years.”

Dean sipped his coffee and then shrugged. “Dad had a policy of never going back to a town twice. If he heard about a real case here, he would’ve passed it along to someone else to take care of. And we know better than to run to town over every jackalope prank.”

Jake nodded, satisfied that they were talking about the same thing without having to say it outright. “So, this unbelievable story you don’t have time to tell me, does it have something to do with the fact that you were declared legally dead a half a dozen years ago?”

Dean laughed outright at that. “Nah, that’s actually a hell of a lot more believable that most of it. Mostly because I wasn’t actually dead that time.”

Jake’s eyebrows went up at that. “That time? So there were other times where you _were_ dead?”

Dean shrugged and glanced over at Cas, who had the answer at the ready.

“Not counting the time Gabriel trapped you in a time loop, and including the incident you told me about this morning, I believe it’s six now.”

Jake just blinked at the both of them for a few seconds. “Six. You’ve been dead six times.”

“A couple of ‘em were quick,” Dean replied. “Like, less than ten minutes quick.”

“Right,” Jake replied, letting that sink in. “And what about Cas here?”

“I’ve only been killed five times, but the first three I was only mostly dead before my father resurrected me.”

“No, I meant… Wait. Your father? Was he into voodoo or something?” Jake asked, looking like he regretted ever pushing this line of conversation.

Dean couldn’t contain his laughter at that. Between Cas being Cas, and Jake reacting to that, he was practically on cloud nine. “Oh my god, Chuck. Voodoo. The guy probably gets squeamish sewing a button on.”

“He created the universe and he could end it all with a thought,” Cas reminded him sternly.

“Your  _ father _ … what… does that make you like… Jesus?” Jake said, his eyes going wide as he tried to keep up with the unbelievable things Dean and Cas spoke of so casually.

Cas shook his head and smiled. “No, but I was an angel for several billion years before I renounced heaven and fell.”

“A fallen angel. Like… the devil?”

Dean had almost gotten his laughter under control when it burst out of him again. This time Cas just glared at him.

“No, I’m absolutely nothing like Lucifer.”

Dean got himself under control, chastened by the pained tone in Cas’s voice. “Yeah, I'll definitely vouch for that. Cas is definitely nothing like that dick. He pulled my sorry ass out of Hell, which is mostly why Chuck kept sending him back to me…” Dean trailed off, looking at Cas with a new and wild sense of wonder. He was trying to hold the thread of this bizarre and unexpected conversation, but in light of their earlier revelations about just what brought Cas back from the Empty, it was a little too much to imagine that God himself had literally kept putting them together all these years. From the stunned look on Cas’s face, he’d made the same realization. Luckily Jake was still there to bring them back to earth.

“Wait, you call God  _ Chuck _ ?”

“He prefers it, actually,” Cas replied.

“Before you ask,” Dean said, shaking off the daze and attempting to wrangle things back on track. “Yeah, God sings folk tunes in the shower, loudly, and he borrowed my clothes without asking. He’s a shitty housemate, but he does make a mean stack of pancakes and he doesn’t give a shit whether you believe in him or not.”

“Oh,” Jake replied. “Okay. I mean, I guess I shouldn’t have asked, but I was kind of expecting to hear a wild story about a shapeshifter or something. And wait… you were in Hell? Hell is real?”

“Unfortunately,” Dean replied. “So’s heaven, purgatory, the multiverse, and oh… the Empty.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Jake replied.

Cas shrugged. “It’s not of import. What might be of import is your familiarity with the supernatural.”

“Excuse me?” Jake replied. “How… how is that important?”

Cas’s redirect gave Dean just enough time to regroup and find the perfect opening to take back control of the conversation. “Because you seemed to know plenty about hunting, enough that you almost seemed to be expecting me to turn up. At least, you weren’t exactly surprised when I did, even though you knew about the untimely reports of my death. So what are you hiding in this town? Huh? What are you hiding that’s so big and bad the whole town invented a cute little monster mascot to cover it up?” Dean gave Jake a pointed look, but his tone softened. “And how deep are you standing in it?”

Jake closed his eyes for a moment, took a long swig of coffee, and blew out a sigh before looking back up at Dean. “It’s nothing that should’ve ever come to a hunter’s attention.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at Jake, because that was a damn unsatisfying answer. “Well, it did. And I know a few other hunters that wouldn’t have stopped to ask questions before going Terminator on the whole damn town, so if you know what’s really going on around here, now’s the time to share with the class.”

“There’s nothing in town that needs hunting,” Jake started, and then held up a pacifying hand when Dean was about to object. “Alan Bachman got what he deserved. I know for a fact he was killed in self defense. He’d been stalking Sabine for the better part of a year, and he was getting to the point where he wasn’t gonna take no for an answer.”

Dean grunted, disgusted. “He cornered her out behind the Wellspring?”

Jake nodded, casting his eyes down to the table. “Annie saw him follow her out, and thank god she did. She went after the both of them, and by the time she’d caught up, Alan had Sabine down on the ground, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer.”

Dean glanced over at Cas, who nodded back. “So what is she? Skinwalker?”

Jake laughed and shook his head. “Not even close. When Annie and her family settled here, they swore to protect the entire town as long as the town returned the favor.”

Dean’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “And you knew about this? Even back then?” He didn’t have to add  _ when we were kids _ for Jake to understand.

Jake shook his head and smiled. “Nope. Only learned about it when I started with the sheriff’s department. Only about half a dozen folks outside the Pertinger family know what they really are.”

“So?” Dean asked. “What are they?”

“Annie and Arawn are their own thing, but the rest of the Pertingers… I think you might be able to figure that one out on your own, and why they’d help invent something like the jackalope to cover their tracks.”

“They’re wolpertingers,” Cas said.

“Whatatingers?” Dean asked, looking between Cas and Jake, waiting for an explanation.

“They’re European in origin, but the jackalope is a remarkably similar creature,” Cas said. “Though wolpertingers have wings in addition to antlers.”

Jake nodded. “They left the wings off the jackalope just so folks wouldn’t connect the Pertingers with wolpertingers.”

“So you’re saying a flying bunny rabbit killed Alan Bachman. Like the rabbit of Caerbannog? Do we need a holy hand grenade?”

“Wolpertingers are entirely peaceful creatures,” Cas said, scolding. “They’re capable of defending themselves, but I believe they may have a couple of guard dogs standing watch over them as well.”

“Annie and Aaron?” Dean asked.

“It’s Arawn, not Aaron” Cas replied, as all the dots connected up for him. “And I assume Annie is one of the Cŵn Annwn.” In response to Dean’s raised eyebrow, Cas explained, “A dog of the wild hunt. Arawn is the king of their realm.”

“Wait, wild hunt? Like fairies?” Dean asked. “I thought Oberon was their king? Wait, does this mean I actually landed a shot on the dude?”

Cas shook his head. “The fairy realm you visited is just one of many. In another realm, Arawn is king. As far as I know, Oberon is still ruling his own realm.”

Jake ventured another tentative comment. “You’ve… visited a fairy realm and lived to talk about it, too?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Dean grumbled out. “Pro tip, if they ever try to cart you off against your will, try shooting ‘em. Seems to piss them off enough to let you go.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jake replied. “But none of them have tried to  _ cart me off _ , at least not against my will.”

A sly smile crept across Dean’s face. “Aw, did you hook up with one of the Bunnymen?”

Jake shook his head and smiled. “I live with Sebastian Pertinger, Sabine’s brother. I know these people, Dean. They’re my family too.”

Dean nodded slowly. “Not much you won’t do for family. I get that. At least they got you-- and I guess a fairy king and his guard dog looking out for them.”

“Plus Arawn makes a mean shepherd’s pie,” Jake said with a smirk. “If you haven’t eaten at the Wellspring yet, you should definitely make time for it while you’re here. Definitely an experience to add to your list. You can file it right under God making you pancakes.”

“And an angel who makes me coffee,” Dean said, smiling over at Cas.

Cas smiled back and Jake cleared his throat.

“So, I take it this is the end of the long and strange story?” Jake said, pointing between the two of them. “Angel rescues man from Hell and then falls from Heaven for him?”

“I guess that’s one way to put it, yeah,” Dean agreed. “With a lot of other bullshit in between, but this is the important part, right?” He looked at Cas, smiling fondly back at him.

“It’s certainly my personal favorite,” Cas replied.

Jake grinned at them and sat back in his chair, slowly sipping his coffee. “I never would’ve believed Dean Winchester would have a life straight out of a Lifetime movie of the week, but here we are.”

“Shut up,” Dean replied. “They would’ve had to edit out like 95% of our lives out to make it work. The Leviathan, for one. Oh, and Purgatory.”

Cas shrugged. “There were a number of dramatic moments in Purgatory.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think bloody combat in monster heaven counts.”

Cas gave him a knowing look until Dean relented, acknowledging their reunion by the river. Dean held up one hand and laughed. “Fine, okay. I’ll give you that one. Happy?”

Jake just continued to watch them, not having any real idea what they were talking about, but looking perfectly content anyway. He let them go on for a few more minutes until he’d finished his coffee and checked his watch.

“Well, I really do have to meet the coroner to sign off on Alan Bachman’s test results. But about Annie…”

Dean cleared his throat and stood up. “Yeah, don’t worry about a thing. And pass the word around to everyone that as long as they uphold their side of your deal, they’re under the protection of the Winchesters, too. That might not mean much to you, but that does carry some weight in certain circles.”

Jake stood as well. “I can see why it would. God doesn’t make just anyone pancakes.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean said, as he and Cas followed Jake back to the station. “Dude did kinda screwed up my entire life. It was the least he could do.”

“Looks like sending you an angel might have evened the scales a bit, too,” Jake added. “Listen, if you’re still going to be in town tonight, we should all go to dinner. I can formally introduce you to Annie and Lev. Bring Sam along, too, and I’ll bring Sebastian and Sabine. Lord knows she could use the distraction after what she’s been through, and I think she’d appreciate knowing you’re on her side.”

Dean shot Cas a questioning look and Cas nodded. “We’d love to.”

By the time they parted at the door to the sheriff’s office, they had plans to shut down the Wellspring for a family gathering. On the short drive back to the motel, Dean only hoped that Sam hadn’t invested too much time and energy into researching a case that was no longer a case. It had only been a couple of hours, Dean figured. Sam couldn’t have dug himself in  _ too  _ deep.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam had dug himself in pretty damn deep. He had half a dozen pages of notes and a list of books he’d planned to pick up at the local library. There were enough open tabs on his laptop that Dean was surprised the thing wasn’t smoking under the strain.

“So get this,” Sam said, practically leaping out of his chair in excitement when Dean and Cas walked in. “There hasn’t been an influx of stray dogs lately, but something Lindsey said got me thinking. There’s been _one specific_ dog around town, but no one’s been able to get a clear look at it, but they all agree it was--”

“White?” Cas interrupted him, to Sam’s shock. “Perhaps with red ears?”

“Well, red spots, anyway,” Sam said, deflating and slowly sinking back into his chair. “Like I said, nobody got a clear look. How did you know?”

“We solved the entire case,” Dean replied, tugging off his suit jacket and crossing the room to hang it back up. “Or not-case.”

Sam stared at them, incredulous, as both Dean and Cas casually went about the business of changing into something more comfortable. “Since when is a dead body and a Cu Sith on the loose a _not-case_?”

“Cŵn Annwn,” Cas replied. “Not a Cu Sith, though the difference is mostly in the name. And she was only acting in the sworn defense of her family.”

“Yeah, turns out the supposed victim was a would-be predator,” Dean said. “Kinda poetic when you think about it.”

Cas nodded as he removed his tie. “He believed Sabine Pertinger to be easy prey. He wasn’t a very good predator.”

“So, that’s it, then? We’re just gonna pack up and leave town, knowing there’s a random…” Sam trailed off.

“Not random. Annie,” Cas supplied, and Sam’s eyes went wide.

“The bartender from last night? She’s the one who killed Alan?”

Dean nodded, pulling off his tie. “Just in time, too. Sabine might have her own nasty, big pointy teeth, but Alan had her pinned.”

“Sabine… pointy teeth… is she a fairy dog too?” Sam asked.

Dean waved a hand a Cas to explain, so he wouldn’t have to try and say _wolpertinger_ again. Instead he spent the next five minutes in the bathroom, changing his clothes and eavesdropping on Sam’s increasing bafflement with the entire story as Cas related everything Jake had told them.

“So we’re sticking around one more night for some sort of family dinner with every last monster in town? Including a fairy king. And we’re doing this because…?” Sam asked as Dean came out of the bathroom and packed up the rest of his things.

“Aw, Sam, most of ‘em are flying rabbits. Maybe it’ll help you finally put your Easter bunny trauma to rest.” When Sam just glared at him, Dean rolled his eyes. “We’re doing this because they’re Jake’s family, and they were defending their own. They’ve kept this whole town safe from every other sort of monster this planet’s spat out for nearly a hundred years, and they don’t prey on humans. I don’t give a shit what they are, they take care of this town like hunters, and they invited us to celebrate with them.”

Sam side-eyed him again. “And you think that’s a good idea, to knowingly take food and drink from a fairy?”

“We’ve already taken food and drink from Annie,” Cas reminded him. “We did pay for it, though. And we can pay again tonight if it makes you feel better, but Dean’s already agreed to a cooperative bargain with Jake, so I believe the sharing of food wouldn’t obligate us further at this point.”

“Shit, Dean, you made a deal with them?”

“Not a deal,” Dean said, picking up his bag. “I told Jake they had our word we wouldn’t come after them for this, and that they can consider the whole family under our protection. That means something to them, especially if they know who we are. Not like they haven’t done just fine on their own, but fairies appreciate the gesture.”

“Since when did you learn so much about fairies?” Sam asked suspiciously.

“You get yanked into an alternate reality by a bunch of grabby douchebags, makes you wanna learn everything you can to keep it from happening again.”

Sam sighed, shutting his laptop. “Fine, whatever. At least the whole town wasn’t overrun with Easter eggs this time. But where are you guys going?” he asked as Dean headed toward the door, followed closely by Cas.

Dean and Cas shared a glance at one another before Cas turned back to Sam. “I believe we’re getting our own room.”

Dean just nodded and shrugged, smirking at Sam as he opened the door. “We’ll meet you by the car at six. Don’t be late.”

Dean managed to talk the guy at the motel desk into giving them a room at the opposite end of the motel from Sam’s room, just on principle. Not that Dean expected them to get up to anything too wild yet. After all, they’d only just begun to adjust to the reality that they both wanted to be together, and that they were both allowed and even encouraged to want it. Not that Dean would object to anything wild, but sharing a room with Sam while everything was so new between them was mortifyingly awkward, even if all they were doing was talking. And probably cuddling again. Dean definitely wouldn’t object to that.

He unlocked the door and tried not to freeze up at the sight of only one king size bed in the room as Cas sidestepped around him and dropped his duffel on the dresser. This was all good, entirely normal, and almost more than he could process after years of denying himself in almost every way. Cas just calmly set to sorting through his bag again, digging out his toiletry kit and laying out a fresh change of clothes for morning. It was so jarringly domestic, Dean shook off the last of his worries and dropped his bag next to Cas’s and set about the same process.

“Earlier,” Cas started after a few moments of silent companionship. “While we were waiting for Jake, I mentioned something the entity in the Empty said to me.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, taking a deep breath and waiting. He’d been low-key dreading this conversation all afternoon.

Cas turned and waited for Dean to look at him. “When I woke up in the Empty, it _felt_ empty. There was nothing else _conscious_ there, until the Entity awakened. It looked just like me, had manifested itself to resemble me,” he added, waving a hand at his own face.

“So you-you, and not celestial wavelength you?” Dean asked.

Cas nodded. “I haven’t been _that_ in a long time, Dean. I think you know that.”

Dean sighed and nodded. Yeah, he’d known it, but he hadn’t really wanted to admit it to himself. He’d felt partly responsible-- okay _mostly_ responsible-- for ruining an angel of the Lord. Having said ex-angel confirm it was his own freely-made choice to fall, and that he’d never been happier, made it a lot easier to accept.

“The entity knew things about me. Knew everything about me, really. And he tried to use that knowledge to convince me to go back to sleep, to give up fighting and lie down for the rest of eternity alone. Do you know what he said to me?”

Dean shook his head, half afraid to know.

“He told me he knew who I loved, and what I feared, and that there was nothing for me here. He showed me things that I’d been too afraid to face. Things that had made me afraid to admit what I wanted, because I was terrified of what you’d think of me.”

Dean reached out a hand and laid it on Cas’s shoulder, fingers curling around and slowly drawing Cas closer. “What did he show you?” he asked gently, not entirely sure he’d ever be ready to hear the answer, but knowing he needed to ask anyway.

“Metatron cutting out my grace, Lucifer killing me, and the Leviathans… what I did, how I betrayed you and broke the world, the fear that you could never fully forgive me for that, or that I could never deserve your forgiveness.”

Dean pulled him the rest of the way into his arms, carefully running his fingers through Cas’s hair and holding on for dear life. “Shit, Cas, you know that’s all ancient history. I almost broke the world a couple times since then, too. If I can’t forgive you for trying to save it, I’d kinda be in deep shit here.”

Cas laughed around the lump in his throat and clung to Dean. “I was trying to save the world, but I hurt you again and again when I’d only ever wanted to protect you. But you kept forgiving me. The entity tried to convince me to give up, but you never gave up on me. I couldn’t give up on you, either. Even if it was just to stand by your side as brothers in arms. I would’ve made it my mission to stand by you as long as you’d have me, as long as you needed me. I couldn’t let you down again.”

“So I shouted down Sam for you, and you shouted down a cosmic entity for me? Sounds like a fair trade.”

Cas laughed with relief, and Dean leaned back to give Cas a relieved smile, still running his fingers soothingly through Cas’s hair.

“Just so you know, I’ve always needed you, Cas. Not just to be a soldier for me. I just needed _you_. Got that?”

“I understand that now,” Cas replied. “This is why I prefer Enochian to human languages. There’s far less ambiguity.”

“So you’re finally admitting you might get words wrong sometimes?”

Cas glared at him, but Dean could still see the relief in his eyes. “I think the difficulty in this case is at least partly to blame on your choice of words.”

Dean shrugged. “Hey, it’s not like I didn’t have reasons to be afraid too, you know. Half the time when we got anywhere remotely close to this point in the past, you’d fly off and leave me standing there like an idiot with my heart in my hands. I figured you were trying to tell me something, so I stopped pushing.”

Cas bowed his head, but Dean gave his hip a little nudge and ducked down to look up into Cas’s face.

“I was terrified to tell you I loved you and then have you leave again. It was hard enough letting you go when I could pretend you didn’t know that.”

Watching the look of wonder break across Cas’s face was worth the abject terror Dean had put himself through to get the words out. Cas’s arms tightened around him, his hands clenched in Dean’s shirt.

“I love you too, Dean. And I’m not going anywhere without you again.”

Dean breathed a long, slow sigh of relief, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Cas’s. “Thank fuck.”

 

***

 

Six o’clock came all too soon for Dean’s taste. They’d spent the intervening hours relaxing together atop the covers of the large bed, fully clothed but in near constant contact. Mostly they talked, finally finding the right words to clear up so many misunderstandings from their past. Between heartfelt and heartbreaking revelations, they held each other tight whenever the words dissolved into kissing, or even just silently and contentedly basking in each other’s presence. As corny as it was-- which Dean still felt the need to half-heartedly complain about on several occasions-- he wouldn’t have traded any of it for the world.

As promised, at six o’clock Sam stood leaning against the side of the Impala, his arms folded across his chest. Dean waved him over and Sam reluctantly pushed off the car and crossed the lot.

“Something wrong?” Sam asked warily as he approached.

“Nah. Just figured we’d walk, since it’s only a few blocks...” Dean replied, trailing off when he noticed the mysterious white dog sitting at the rear of the Impala. “Why is it the dogs always seem to find you, Sam?”

Sam turned to scan the entire parking lot, then looked back at Dean as if he was about to inquire whether Dean was suffering a stroke. ”What dogs?”

Cas glanced up to where Dean had fixed his attention. “Annie, I assume?”

Dean just nodded as the huge white dog grinned at him and trotted over to his side. She shifted into her human form before making herself visible to Sam, who let out an involuntary yip of surprise at her sudden appearance out of thin air. Annie grinned at him, and then turned her cheerful smile on Dean.

“So it’s true, what Jake told us. You’re the genuine article,” she said, holding out a hand for Dean to shake.

“So I passed your test?” Dean asked, letting her hand go.

Annie nodded. “And by default, so did Sam. He had no idea I’d been hanging around for the last ten minutes.”

“That’s… not actually very comforting,” Sam replied.

“Wasn’t meant to be,” Annie confirmed. “The infamous Winchesters, in the flesh. Imagine that. Well, come on, we’ve got a lot of getting to know each other to accomplish, and a lot of good food and drink that needs seeing to.”

The Wellspring was nearly as crowded as it had been the night before, and when Cas mentioned that he’d assumed the restaurant would be closed for their family dinner, Annie confirmed that it was. Every Pertinger in town had shown up to break bread with the Winchesters. And the bread, and everything else, had been delicious.

Sam spent quite a bit of time talking with Sabine, learning not only about her life, but how the Pertingers had managed to hide their true identities from the rest of the unsuspecting townsfolk for the last few generations.

“Half our people live here, and the other half stay in Wales with Arawn's people,” she’d told him while he listened eagerly. “Every few decades, we trade places with one of our brothers and sisters over there so the townsfolk don’t start asking too many questions. We take on a new identity, live a new life for a few decades more, and then move back.”

“God, that must get lonely,” Sam relied. “Never being able to tell anyone what you really are, outside your family.”

Sabine shrugged. “Makes you really appreciate the people you do have in your life. Makes you really choosy about who you spend your life with.” She nodded over at Jake and Sebastian. “We’re waiting to see if they’ve truly bonded, and if so which way the bond will choose for them.”

Sam watched the two men for a moment, laughing together like an old married couple, before turning back to Sabine with a confused frown. “What do you mean, the bond will choose for them?”

Her eyes twinkled and she smiled at him. “We mate for life, and we can live a very long time. If we find a human mate, the bond has to decide whether the pair would be happier as humans or wolpertingers. It can take years, but slowly, as the bonded pair grow closer, their will and intent… manifest through the bond. Annie's bond with Lev is how we all ended up under under Arawn's protection.”

Sam’s eyes went wide. “So if they’re truly bonded, either Sebastian will become human or Jake…”

“Will become one of us,” Sabine confirmed, as if gradually changing _species_ because of love were a normal, everyday occurrence.

Sam shook his head and looked around the room, wondering how many of these people had been born a different species than they were now, and his eyes caught on Cas. He was hunched over Dean’s plate as Dean pointed out what he was eating, offering Cas a taste of everything from his own fork, grinning at Cas’s reactions to each new flavor. From across the table, caught up in an entirely different conversation, if Sam hadn’t known them, it would’ve been obvious that they were in love.

“Yeah,” Sam said slowly as he turned back to Sabine. “Yeah, I think I understand what you mean.”

“I thought you might,” she said with a shy smile. “We take the bonding very seriously. It’s not the sort of thing you can just settle for. It’s essential to find the right person, the person who makes you happiest in the world, with so much riding on your choice.”

“I can only imagine,” Sam agreed.

Halfway through dessert, which was a varied assortment of the finest pies and cakes Dean had ever laid eyes on, Lev and Annie came around to whisper in Dean’s ear.

“Jake told us about your last visit to town, and seeing as it’s almost Easter again, and seeing how well your Sam’s getting on with Sabine…” Annie paused to tilt her head in their direction, and Cas and Dean both glanced over to see Sam and Sabine engrossed in conversation with one another, their heads slightly bowed together, smiles on both their faces. Lev had to clear his throat to draw their attention back around.

“As I was saying, Jake told us about a certain prank the two of you you once played on your brother, and we thought it would be in the spirit of the holiday to help you recreate it,” Annie finished.

Dean’s eyebrows drew together and he looked between an equally confused Cas and the grinning Pertingers. Lev cleared up their confusion with a laugh.

“There’s a hundred or so Easter eggs in the trunk of your car. You’ll see ‘em, but your brother won’t.” Lev slipped a piece of paper into Dean’s hand. “When you’re home, just speak those words over ‘em, and they’ll become visible to everyone. Use them how you see fit,” he finished with a mischievous wink before patting Dean and Cas both on the back.

At the end of the evening, Annie refused to accept their money, calling it a celebration of a new alliance. The fairy king, Arawn, had spent most of the evening in the kitchen, but even he’d come out and been social for the last hour or so they were there. It’s not often you get to engage in drunken karaoke battles with ancient fairies, but Dean, Cas, and Sam left the Wellspring hoping they’d get another chance again soon. On the walk back to the motel, Sam all but confirmed that Sabine had issued him a standing invitation to come back to visit her again.

“Aw, Sammy, you thinking about coming back around Easter? Maybe you can catch yourself a real live Easter bunny?”

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam said, his eyes studiously focused on the sidewalk in front of his feet as his cheeks pinked up in the cold breeze. “Courting is a really serious matter for the Pertingers. I don’t think she made the invitation lightly. I think I’ve got some serious thinking to do before I see her again.”

Dean sobered a bit at that and nodded approvingly. “I hope you at least got her number then. Long distance relationships can be a bitch.”

“Yeah, I did,” Sam replied quietly. “She’s thinking of taking some time off from the family business and exploring the country a bit. Last time she was outside of Wyoming or Britain, electric lights hadn’t been invented yet.”

Cas smiled fondly at Sam’s wondering tone, and Dean patted his brother on the back. “You gonna show her a good time? Chaperone her through her adventures?”

“I’m thinking about it, yeah.”

“Good for you, Sam,” Dean said, in all seriousness. “You deserve to be happy, too. And hell, if you two do get together, she’s already got a dog.”

“Again, Dean. Shut up.”

 

***

 

Dean and Cas bided their time with the magical Easter eggs. It was a week after they returned home that they set their plan into motion. The first few eggs appeared out of nowhere when Sam’s back was turned. He’d stood from a book he was reading in the library to retrieve another volume to continue his research, and returned a few seconds later to a bright yellow plastic egg resting in the gutter of his open book.

“Dean?” Sam yelled out, glancing around the library for any trace of his brother, but Dean emerged from the kitchen with two fresh cups of coffee for them and couldn’t possibly have placed the egg there.

“Cas?” Sam tried again, but Dean shook his head.

“He’s still in the kitchen,” Dean confirmed, using every bit of his willpower to keep his face from giving everything away.

Sam held up the egg, and Dean merely raised his eyebrows as Sam broke it open and dumped a handful of jelly beans onto the table.

“So where the hell did this come from?” Sam asked, and Dean just shrugged, reaching over to snag the candy and shove it in his mouth.

“Don’t know, don’t care. Jelly beans, dude.”

Another egg materialized in Sam’s bowl of corn flakes the next morning, while he’d turned his back to top off his coffee. Dean was at the other side of the kitchen frying bacon, and Cas had just come through the door. The blue egg contained several chocolates, which Sam was still wary of but Dean and Cas both agreed were delicious.

After that the eggs began materializing everywhere-- sometimes right in front of Sam’s increasingly distressed eyes. After he watch his first egg materialize out of thin air, Dean had laughed at Sam’s stunned expression.

“Dude, maybe the Easter bunny finally caught up with us to thank you for defending him when you were a kid,” Dean teased.

“That’s not funny, Dean. This is seriously fucked up. How can you even laugh about this?”

Dean just shrugged, broke the egg open, and walked off with a handful of caramels to share with Cas. Sam buckled down and began studying the lore in earnest, looking for any evidence that anything like the Easter bunny even existed. Dean and Cas found him passed out in the library, face down and drooling in a book on Easter morning. They’d filled a large wicker basket with the remaining eggs and set it ever so gently on the table by Sam’s head before slipping out of the room to wait for Sam to wake up.

They didn’t have to wait long. It only took a little strategic banging around in the kitchen and putting on a pot of coffee to rouse Sam.

Sam jumped at the sight of the basket, and then nearly fell out of his chair in a mad, half-asleep scramble to get out of the way as close to a hundred eggs suddenly appeared inside it. Dean arrived in the library just in time to watch him clamber over the back of his toppled chair and stumble across his own feet until he slammed into the nearest bookshelf and slid to the floor.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” he screamed as he pulled a knife out of his pocket and scrambled to his feet, crouched in a defensive stance.

Cas rounded the corner from where he’d been hidden chanting the reveal spell for the final time, as Dean bounded up the steps from the war room grinning from ear to ear.

“Finally. It took decades, but I finally pulled off a real Easter bunny moment for you, Sammy.”

“You?” Sam asked, his shocked expression dissolving into confusion. “But how? What? _Why_?”

“Oh, and April Fools, too,” Dean said, turning to grin at Cas. “I think we nailed this one. What do you say?”

Cas repressed a grin of his own and assessed Sam’s continued state of disbelief. “I would say so, yes.”

“Enjoy the candy, Sam. It’s safe to eat, by the way,” Dean confirmed as he draped an arm over Cas’s shoulders and led him out of the room. “Just ask Sabine next time you talk to her. Best prank ever, and I can’t even take credit for it.”

“But…” Sam said, slowly lowering his knife and approaching the basket of eggs as if it could detonate at any moment. “Really?”

Dean just shrugged, but Cas smiled. “Happy Easter, Sam. Maybe you’ve finally found your Easter bunny.”

 

 

 

 

BONUS CONTENT!

This is a record of the chat with Lizbob that inspired this fic:

 

Mittensmorgul: They need someone to write good, sensible crack episodes

just as long as you don't do a weird dog episode

Elizabethrobertajones: EASTER BUNNY EPISODE

Mittensmorgul: YES

Elizabethrobertajones: also bi dean

Mittensmorgul: combine those two concepts into a single pitch and you're hired. I mean, you could write the fic Because I don't have actual hiring authority :D

[ Do the flashback episode bluestar proposed  ](http://bluestar86.tumblr.com/post/149950106678/how-dean-should-come-out-on-the-show) about Dean running into a guy from a previous case when he was like 16 since that's about when Sam learned the Easter Bunny wasn't real...

Elizabethrobertajones: OMG

Mittensmorgul: The flashbacks involve Sam catching Dean hiding easter eggs with his boyfriend or whatever

Elizabethrobertajones: he was so distracted having his WORLD SHATTERED. HE HAD NO IDEA. POOR CHICKEN

Mittensmorgul: yep

Elizabethrobertajones: it's actually a "sam" episode. Except. you know. 

Mittensmorgul: dean kisses a dude

Elizabethrobertajones: the flashbacks are like prime baby Sam fan bait like 11x08. but then Dean kisses a dude :P. hahahaha

Mittensmorgul: I would watch the HECK outta that all the promos would be about baby Sam's heartbreak over the easter bunny, and then right at the end... :P  I'm gonna put this whole conversation on my To Be Written list. I'm drowning in a very long AU right now, so I'd love to write canon fic again next

**Author's Note:**

> Well there you go. Find me on the tumbls where I am clearly easily persuaded to stick random fic ideas together until they start to resemble highly unlikely mythical beasts that may or may not lay plastic easter eggs. I'm [mittensmorgul](http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/)
> 
> the tumblr promo post for this fic can be found right here: [Plotbunny](http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/172196001735/rating-t-words-21550-pairings-deancastiel)


End file.
